


New Moon Bouquet

by CalmSpirited



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Gore, Canon-Typical Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Chronological Characters, F/F, F/M, Gen, I hope Dwight has ass insurance ;), M/M, Multi, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rough Kissing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-01-07 13:56:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 45,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18412034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalmSpirited/pseuds/CalmSpirited
Summary: Or... what I think happened in the DBD Console Trailer.Pour one out for the Moon Bouquets, they are sorely missed.





	1. The Leader

**Author's Note:**

> Hello ! and welcome for another story I will probably never finish ;)
> 
> This story starts centered around the Console Trailer, but I'll probably keep going with it to include other characters. 
> 
> This story will (probably) have sexual things including multiple and switching couples, meeting duplicates, magic shenanigans, monster fuckery, possible Entity-fuckery, possible happy endings ;))), inter-dimensional tomfoolery, some DBD peeps who have never been seen brought to life (OCs and Vigo), time-travel, Dwight being Dwight and I Love Jake Park.
> 
> While this story may have some icky kissing (lets be honest, Adiris shoves everything in her mouth down your throat when she mories you), there will be no non-con/sexual abuse or anything. I don't like the NOES Freddy so lets all pretend the Entity fucked up and grabbed the original Freddy instead because he's just so much better. He won't be in here that much, but if you don't like that then just skip those parts.
> 
> Some chapters might be long or they might be really short, might end abruptly or leave on a cliffhanger, that will vary based on how far I get get for each section and how my brain slowly piddles out. Some chapters might be beta-read, others might not, though they all will be at some point.
> 
> With all that, I hope you read and enjoy whatever I manage to brain vomit onto this site and I appreciate all the love and support I've gotten on all my other stories!

Waking up on the cold, hard ground wasn’t something Dwight expected.

 

A bitter taste lingering in his throat, tongue burning and his face turned sideways so that his cheek was sticky with wet dirt, Dwight woke up feeling none too good. Eyes blurry and unfocused, he simply laid where he woke up until the light vertigo faded away and he could internally solidify himself with slowly returning memories of what happened last night.

 

His boss, Mr. Gregino, had invited them all out into the woods surrounding La Crosse for some “team-bonding” exercise that he knew, he just  _ knew _ , was just so his boss and his secretary could do more than just team-bonding far enough away so that Mrs. Gregino wouldn’t find out and Dwight honestly would tell the poor woman what was going on but he knew if he did, Mr. Gregino would make sure he’d never work anywhere closeby again. It took most of his savings just to move off his family’s farm back in Iowa, so he couldn’t dare chance that.

 

Poor Mrs. Gregino; her husband was an chauvinist asshole and she could do so much better than that.  _ She was  _ much better than that.

 

“Ew…” The hoarseness of his own voice disgusts him as much as the dried vomit on the ground he’s laying on, and he pushes himself up on shaky and scrawny upper arms that barely hold him up. He finds his glasses next to his right hand, and he moves to sit on his rear with his left arm propping him up so his right hand is free to pick up the framed spectacles and shake them free of dirt before adjusting them on his face.

 

Blinking his eyes clear of dried eye gunk and dirt, a sinking feeling immediately dragging his stomach down into the ground as he took in his surroundings. This is not where he was taken to for “team-bonding”- growing up on a farm made him very much aware of what kind of trees and foliage was around the areas that he lived in, and none of it was matching up.

 

Sniffling to clear his nasal passages, Dwight raised his head up. “Hello? Anybody?” Voice echoing with no response except for the caw of a few birds, a feeling of panic started gnawing in his chest, shortening his breaths and constricting his diaphragm. “Hello?” He called out again, this time with more urgency and desperation than before.

 

The air is chilly, and Dwight scrambles to his feet to get off the cold ground, looking around frantically for signs of anybody or anything that could help him or tell him where he is. “Hello!? Please, anybody out there?” His heart rate accelerated, picking up speed and shaking him to his core as cold seeped into his fingertips, spreading up into his palms and forearms along with a foreboding sense of dread filling his stomach like cold soup-

 

_ This isn’t normal.  _ He had felt fear when he was running from bullies back in school, sure, but this was different, intense, almost  _ surreal. _ Dwight suddenly couldn’t shake the feeling that  _ something  _ was coming at him that bore him ill will. So, he did what he knew best to do, something he had done all his life: hide away and hope the danger passes by without noticing him.

 

Twisting around until his wide eyes spot some random boxes propped up against a tree, Dwight made a split-second decision to dive behind them, crawling on his hands and knees until he had pressed his back against the wooden cross beams of the box, head inbetween his knees in an upright fetal position to make himself as small as possible as his heartbeat grew in size and volume until he thought his heart was going to explode or go into cardiac arrest. His whole body was shaking but Dwight didn’t utter a sound, not even when footsteps approached, not even when he felt the grass near to him being disturbed-

 

Breathing that was too heavy and too  _ animalistic  _ to be human overlapped with his own and the footsteps came to a sudden stop. An  _ unnerving presence  _ washed over him, and Dwight could  _ feel  _ rancid, putrid breath raining down on the back of his neck and head. He felt too terrified to look up but at the same time he felt as if he  _ must- _

 

And Dwight screamed at the top of his lungs when he was met with the sight of a…  _ monster  _ looking down at him, its face covered with a mask made out of stained wood that had a hideous grin and sharp teeth carved into a wide smile. But that wasn’t what shook Dwight to his core, no- it was the leathery, blood-stained skin that was covered with equally blood-stained overalls that did nothing to hide the sharp, metal barbs protruding from his body.

 

Did he mention he was  _ massive?  _ No? Well, he is now.

 

Pressing his back against the wooden boxes until his ribs hurt, Dwight’s eyes were caught staring up at the monster until his pupils burned from not blinking nor looking away. His chest burned from not breathing and he started to feel lightheaded, but he wasn’t about to  _ inhale  _ in front of this beast. Mouth opening to stutter in pure terror, Dwight searched within himself to find any sort of bravery or courage to stare down the monster and say something cool or witty so he could be proud of himself later.

 

Unfortunately, no courage or bravery was anywhere to be found, and all he was left with was cowardice. He had stopped screaming at some point, only to start again when he had sharply inhaled, bringing oxygen rushing back to his brain and kicking himself into gear. Scrambling back against the farthest box he could, Dwight brought his hands up to protect his face when he looked down farther and noticed the large, metallic weapon the beast was wielding at his side, fully expecting to be hit or swiped at and his arms were his best line of defense.

 

But no hit came nor any whooshing of the air, so Dwight continued to stare blankly at the beast, vocal chords slowly coming back online to utter a few syllables. “W-w-w-wh-wh-wh-wha-what-”

 

His pitiful attempt at speaking was cut short by the weapon, drenched in putrid and oozing blood coming closer and closer until the large edge of it pressed against his chapped lips, causing discomfort and disgust and making Dwight gag and nearly lose whatever he had eaten last  _ (and the corn liquor he stupidly indulged in last night). _ He didn’t move or try to scoot away any further, opting to dart his eyes back and forth between the weapon and the monster’s mask-covered face.

 

A noise came from the beast, something that Dwight likened to  _ chuckling,  _ and then the beast spoke:

 

“New meat.”

 

The weapon pressed harder into his face almost to the point of drawing blood. Dwight whimpered, but couldn’t utter a single word due to the debilitating fear he was experiencing. The beast chuckled again, and leaned in towards him until his mask was almost touching his nose, and he could smell a  _ revolting  _ odor coming from within. He felt as if he was being sized up like beef in a butcher shop, to be cut up and sold to the ones who thought he was tasty- as if he was just prey to the beast.

 

“You won’t last long.”

 

The beast’s voice was deep, almost ethereal and as supernatural as his appearance and he pressed closer, closer until the nose of the mask was pressing against his own, and if the mask’s teeth were actually lips, they would be kissing right now-the beast seems to have this thought before he tilts his massive neck back  _ just enough _ and charred, leathery, blood-stained and scarred lips meet his own in a chaste kiss that lacks any innocence and steals Dwight’s  _ first ever  _ kiss from him.

 

It’s over in less than a second, but it’ll stay with Dwight forever, searing a place in his subconscious forever. The beast makes a noise, and raises up to his full height, which is taller than any human should’ve been. “You are pitiful.” He speaks, and starts to turn away from him after turning to his left and bending over once more to pick up an object that has the foretellings of something  _ painful _ . “I shall grant you escape once. Do not waste it.”

 

And then the monster started walking away, leaving the violently shaking man to quake on the ground, lips tingling and pants a little wet. The heartbeat that he felt rattling his marbles subsided until it had faded away entirely and left him with his own racing pulse that Dwight could not settle.

 

He tried to raise himself up off the ground, but found that he could only prop himself up on the boxes behind him because his knees were not obeying him. Palms drenched in sweat, his hand left a wet print on the wood as he braced himself on his knees, head bowed and muttering under his breath a string of prayers to a God he was brought up to seek salvation in- but nothing that he learned in Sunday school would have prepared him for what he had just experienced.

 

_ “Please, God.”  _ He couldn’t stop shaking, clenching and unclenching his fist as if it would dispel the adrenaline pumping through him and curb his rising panic.  _ “Please, help me. Oh, Jesus, what have I done? What have I done to land up in this place?”  _ Sharp, bitten nails curl into his palm and draw small flecks of blood, and it reminds him of the monster he had seen, how blood had seemed to be  _ dried  _ into his leathery skin so dug in deep that no amount of scrubbing would ever cleanse the monster.

 

That was a cold, sobering thought that made the recent, terrifying memories rush back to the forefront of his mind and what the monster said became clear:  _ it’s going to kill me. _ Dwight hadn’t been the brightest kid in school, only getting his diploma with the skin of his teeth but he could put two and two together and understand a threat when he heard one.

 

He couldn’t just stay here. The monster would come back and get him, and that would mean certain death. Knees knocking together, Dwight stood wobbly with his damp palms supporting himself on the boxes, chest rising and falling heavily with each breath he took to stabilize himself, and took one step forward out into the dark, blue-hued forest. 

 

He wasn’t going to be just some  _ meat.  _ He was going to survive whatever the hell this is, no matter what. A surge of confidence swelled throughout his body, pushing him forward more and more steps until he broke out into a run, running as fast and as far away from the monster as he could until he tripped over something on the ground and nearly knocked himself out as he narrowly avoided busting his head open on a...on a…

 

_ generator? _


	2. The Runner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a early Mississippi summer evening jog through the forest, Meg Thomas gets lost and disoriented.
> 
> Or, why you shouldn't run in the fucking woods, Karen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I received a lot more feedback and positive things than I thought I would for just one chapter! Thanks, guys, I really do appreciate it!
> 
> Also yes, the locations mentioned in the characters backgrounds are real places (thank u Google Earth).

_ You’re a star, Megan. _

 

Her feet pounded harder and louder against the pavement of the sidewalk, pushing herself harder and harder as her music played in her ear from her earbuds.

 

_ You could go anywhere.  _

 

She had gone from a light jog to a quickening run, hand enough to feel the shock of the concrete in her clenched jaw.

 

_ You could escape this small town of Louisville. Get out of the sticks of Mississippi. Go somewhere big, be somewhere big- _

 

Only it wasn’t that simple, wasn’t it? Nothing in her life was ever as simple as it was.

 

_ Meg, I’m sick. _

 

“Ow! Motherfuck-” Not looking where she had been going, Meg had ran straight into the dipping branches that she often had to duck along her usual run around the Legion State Park, surely giving herself a few new cuts and scrapes along her face and arms from where she had thrown up his hands to slat away the offending foliage. Growling in irritation but continuing to run, Meg was picking twigs and leaves out of her braids for several hundred more yards until she had reached the end of the runner and hiker trail that trailed off into the Tombigbee National Forest.

 

Usually, by this point Meg would start feeling the slight beginnings of ache and exhaustion in her bones, and would start her jog back to her home to collapse on her porch in a puddle of sweat and melted muscles,  _ but- _

 

_ Miss Thomas, I’m afraid your mother’s cancer hasn’t been responding to treatment, but there are others we can try- _

 

Meg kicked up a bit of dirt in frustration as she paused to catch her breath at the base of the path, hands on her knees as she huffed and thought about what to do.  _ Or really, what she couldn’t do.  _ She could run a bit farther  _ (all of their savings, her entire lifetime worth, were nearly gone)  _ get out some of that extra frustration and stress out of her so she could take care of her mother  _ (all of the money that could’ve gone to her college was all spent on chemo)  _ and maybe catch a ride back from one of her old school friends she knew would be out late at night so she could be back before dark  _ (and it had bought her mother a couple of years at most, which were slowly coming to an end no matter how hard she fought).  _

 

Her mother wasn’t expecting her back til 7, and it was only a little after 6 now.  _ She had plenty of time _ , she convinced herself, doing some quick math in her head and figuring up that she could even be home with a few minutes to spare, as long as she didn't go too far in, which she didn't plan on doing. She was totally responsible!

 

She had contemplated giving her mother a brief call or text on her phone but had ultimately decided against it, figuring that since she already knew she was out for her daily run she wasn't going to worry.

 

Feeling less winded and taking out her earbuds so she could be more aware of her surroundings, Meg picked up her pace again starting at a slow jog to conserve energy into the forest, letting the soothing sounds of the nature and wildlife of the untouched environment weave into her mind and untangle her stress and worries. _ To run is life _ , her motto holds true as the wind whipping past her caresses her face warmly while the rays of sun during a warm early Mississippi summer evening faded away and Meg unconsciously chased after them, seeking it’s comfort.

 

It was only until a muscle twinge make Meg trip up for a second, a cramp racing up her side and stitching itself right underneath her ribcage was cause enough for the track star to stop her jog short and lean up against a nearby tree that she realized that the sunlight was running out faster than she thought and that perhaps she had spent a little too much time running than she had planned on.

 

“Shoot.” Realizing her error, Meg only stayed up against the tree long enough to take a few swigs of her water bottle before doing an about face and taking off as fast as she allowed herself to go to conserve energy back the way she came. While she ran, she pulled out her phone and took a quick look at the time, which read 6:25. She would have to hussle and catch a ride to make it back in time, but she was confident that she could do it.

 

Her mind wandered again back to her home: Mom would mostly likely have the pot roast and potatoes done by the time she got back, drizzled in that delicious chicken gravy- and the  _ biscuits _ . Her mother had always been a wonderful cook and Meg could only hope to be as half as good as her, especially since she always made things a little crispier than they should’ve been. Her stomach rumbled loudly, agreeing with her on the idea of a home-cooked meal waiting for her at home which only pushed her to run  _ faster- _

 

Meg tripped. This time unable to catch herself, Meg tumbled down a small hill that she can’t even remember running up on her way in. She rolled over and over, feeling small branches and rocks give her small cuts and bruises all over her arms on her way down the embankment until she came to a stop in a pile of grass and leaves, mind thrown off course and ears ringing until her balance quickly realigned itself. 

 

She found herself looking up at the sky, a light blue color with quickly retreating streaks of sunlight being chased towards the horizon and feeling disoriented that faded when her phone buzzed with a new text message. Grabbing her head with one hand and her phone with the other, she felt for any lumps or bruises that would signify head trauma and found none while she swiped the pattern into her phone to read the message, sent by her mother:

 

_ “Are you almost home? Dinner is almost ready! It’s your fav tonight, sweetie ;)” _

 

Hissing under her breath, Meg sat up to look more closely at her phone, which now had a small but noticeable crack running from the upper left side down towards the middle, but found that she could still properly read and press buttons. Touching the reply box, she typed out a quick message:

 

_ “Yeah, got a bit caught up. Sounds good- thx mom.”  _

 

But right before she hit the send button, a noise coming from her right startled her from the device in her hands, and her braids whipped about her face to inspect the noise.

 

“Hey!” She called out, thinking that maybe it was a Park Ranger who she could catch a ride home with. Bouncing to her feet and unsent message forgotten about momentarily, Meg turned on the flashlight app on her phone and used it to light her way in the direction of the sound  _ (when had it gotten so dark?) _ .

 

“Hello?” She called out again, using her loud and boisterous voice that her mother was always encouraging her to use outside, not inside. She started walking forward, step by step deeper into the encroaching darkness that gave her an increasing sense of foreboding, until something crunched beneath her feet.

 

Jumping backwards at the sharpness of whatever she had stepped on, she used her light to illuminate what was on the ground and discovered it to be a few large shards of wood of various colors that included red, blue and off shades of yellow.  _ Odd,  _ she thought, considering how attentive the Park Rangers were about not having any sort of litter in the Tombigbee- especially Old Misses Redding who would chase you down to the Gates of Hell if she knew you littered in “her” forest.

 

Shaking her head, Meg made sure to step over the shredded wood to avoid getting any splinters in her foot while going deeper and deeper into the woods, still calling out for anyone around her.

 

“Anyone out there!? Man-” Sighing in defeat, Meg looked down at her phone again to check the time, and saw that it was now quarter to 7.  _ There goes her chances of making it home on time.  _ Figuring it would be best to text her mother to tell her she was going to be a little latre, Meg pulled up the message screen again, changing the message appropriately before hitting send.

 

_ Sending...Sending…Sending... Message could not be sent. Check your Network Connection and try again.  _

 

It figures that being this deep into the woods meant limited cell phone service. Mentally kicking herself for being an idiot and running this far in the first place, Meg took a moment to reorient herself, and turned to her right 90 degrees and began running again because it made sense that if she ran back, turned to the right to investigate the noise, then another right turn would put her back on track, right-?

 

But, no… she tumbled down hill, didn’t she? That meant she could rolled to the wrong side and was now running even  _ deeper  _ into the forest. That train of thought made Meg immediately stop and take out her phone again, pulling up her GPS to get an idea of which direction she was going.

 

South was the way she needed to go, but the digital compass was pointing north, indicating that she  _ was  _ heading the wrong way. Simple fix, she thought, and spun on her heels to head due south. She jogged for a bit, confident now that she was heading home to a hopefully still warm dinner when on a whim, she checked her phone again just to make sure she was still going the right direction-

 

The clock read 6:40.  _ But didn’t it say 6:45 just a few minutes ago...? _

 

Meg stopped again, this time stunned and utterly confused as to what was going on. Having a bad feeling about the situation suddenly creep up on her, Meg checked her compass. It read that she was going northwest. “No, that’s wrong.” She spoke to herself; she didn’t know a whole lot about navigation, but she knew how to read a fucking compass and know that if she was going north and did a complete 180, she would be going south.

 

She also knew that time didn’t go backwards. “It must be the phone.” Talking to herself again, she gave her phone a few smacks to see if that would combobulate it correctly, and held it up in the air. Nothing changed except the compass ticked back to the north a little bit, and the clock ticked forward to 6:41.

 

The edges of panic and fear started to grip at her chest, realizing that her phone must be really messed up, she quickly cleared out her screen and turned off the phone again, turning it back on to press the “Emergency Call” button on the bottom of the screen and typed in 9-1-1. Holding it and counting to three under her breath, she watched as the call screen came up and relief filled her throat-

 

_ Unable to contact Emergency Services. _

 

Fuck. But that was supposed to work! All phones should be able to make that call, shouldn’t they? The relief that Meg had temporarily felt was washed away with a cold feeling of dread and despair and she found herself fighting not to start hyperventilating.

 

_ It’s alright, it’s okay.  _ She told herself, clenching and unclenching her fists to expend her nervous energy.  _ I can just… just- the North Star!  _ Looking straight up, Meg was desperate to spot the North Star, the one failsafe that Meg knew could never lead her astray. Tilting her head as far back as she could, she tucked away her now useless phone and starting looking for any star in the sky to guide her.

 

Only problem was there were trees  _ everywhere _ , and she kept having to move and duck inbetween them to attempt to get a glimpse at the night sky, and only seeing a dark expanse of  _ nothing.  _ Figuring that she was just looking in the wrong spots, Meg kept moving around, craning her neck back almost to the point of cramping to look for any celestial guidelights-

 

_ S N A P ! _

 

Pain  _ seared  _ up her left leg, and Meg could only register flesh and bones being broken and cracked open as she feel to her knees in shock and anguish. She screamed so loud her throat was sore, looking down through blurred vision to see metal jaws clamped around her leg, mangling it into a mess of blood, gore and white bone.

 

She retched at the sight, almost losing her lunch until she heard the sound of something heavy making its way to her. A small sliver of hope filled her bleeding veins, and she swallowed her tears and cries of pain and held her head up:

 

“He-hello? Is anyone there? Please, I-I need help!”

 

 


	3. The Botanist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claudette deviates from her usual route and gets lost in the woods.
> 
> You know what's worse than getting drunk in the woods or running in the woods? Wandering into the woods to look for weed, that's what worse, Karen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks all of y'all for all the gucci hits and reviews. Also shoutout to Dmod/notthebasement who I'm putting through the ringer to beta read this trash smooches <3
> 
> Next up is Jake. I Love Jake.

America was scary at first, especially considering that she was just barely an adult when Claudette packed up her belongings and moved into a dorm room filled with three other girls who were too busy doing each others make-up and talking about what they were going to do at the next college party to really give Claudette much trouble.

 

One of them was even gone now- got caught  _ In flagrante  _ with a professor that Claudette had never really liked anyways. Now, it was just her and the two other remaining girls (there was another who had came after the previous one-she dropped out after a month) and that was fine to Claudette. A little bit better, even, now that there’s one less set of eyes that's around to look at her while she’s trying to study.

 

In fact, she didn’t have any  _ real  _ friends at the college and that was still okay with her. Real life friends, especially in college, weren’t always a good choice. Besides, she had a botany blog to run online and virtual interactions were just as good as in-person interactions, maybe even better since she didn’t feel awkward and gross after hugging someone she didn’t even know that well.

 

The bus ride back to the Notre Dame Campus was a bumpy one, filled with several stops along the way to pick up people coming home from work or, since it was Friday, dropping people off at liquor stores and bars to stock up on partying supplies for the upcoming weekend (Claudette was neither legally nor personally inclined to alcohol). 

 

Leaning against one of the standing poles inside the bus, Claudette allowed her mind to disconnect from everything going on around her to ignore the pressing and jostling forms of people occupying the bus so that she didn’t overwhelm herself being in close contact with unknown people _. _ Instead, she focused on her phone, reading over a question that was sent to her a couple of hours ago which she had put on the back burner in favor of getting a quick meal at a local coffee shop that had quickly become her favorite hangout place.

 

The question was asking about local plant and fauna life around the college that she was attending, and Claudette had planned on showing off a few samples she had preserved back in her dorm room with some descriptive labeling and tags when her bus lurched to a stop. She heard the heavy metal doors whoosh open, and the driver announced to everyone that they had arrived at their destination.

 

This stop was about 30 minutes from the university that Claudette was very much looking forward to arriving at and settling down in her dorm for the night- but _something_ inside of her urged her to deviate from her usual routine. This stop was right in front of a large area of undeveloped land right around a small lake, and it contained plants that she would love to get her hands on. One in particular she was eager to get because it made for good tea and even had healing properties associated with it.

 

Claudette was the last person to get off the bus at this stop, with the driver calling her out by name and asking her “This ain’t your usual stop, hun.” And Claudette, as awkward as she was talking to people, stuttered for a few moments before managing to squeak out a very brief message about how she just wanted to take a walk through the woods until the next bus came along. With a wave to the driver, Claudette Morel jumped down from the last step (curse her tiny form) and watched as the bus puffed out a plume of heavy smoke behind it as it took off for the city skyline.

 

_ There go all of my social skills for today.  _ Chuckling to herself at her awkwardness just moments earlier, Claudette approached the bus schedule printed on the side of the awning-covered benches that several people had already taken a seat on to wait for the next bus. Taking out her phone again, she decided to take a picture of the schedule just to make doubley sure she didn’t forget about it, though she doubted she would since it was only a half-hour away.

 

_ Okay, so it was 4:30 now and the next bus would come at five o’clock sharp… search for twenty minutes and walk back and forth for 10? _ Sounded like a plan to her. Without a word to anyone else who had decided to wait for the next bus, Claudette turned on her heels and walked into the forest behind her, keeping her eyes peeled for any usable plants that she could take home with her.

 

Watching carefully where she was going to avoid stepping into any poison ivy or poison oak that she knew grew around these parts, Claudette had her phone in one hand, flashlight app turned on and aimed at the ground around her to spot anything she might miss (even though there was still plenty of daylight outside). Only a minute or so into her walk, she had already spotted some wisteria, one of the most beautiful plants in her opinion, and had pocketed a small wine of it in her jeans pocket to decorate her section of dormroom later.

 

As she further searched, she found a few more herbs and such that she reached down and plucked from the ground or stood on her tip-toes and picked from a low-hanging tree branch. But ever the punctual person, Claudette kept a very mindful eye of the time and where she was going, already having gotten lost in the woods once when she was very young for several hours after running in the trees for some pretty flowers. That was a lesson that she took _ very well _ to remember whenever she went out to gather things, and this time was no different.

 

When it neared the end of the allotted time she had allowed herself to look around for, Claudette checked her inventory to count her stock and found that, even though she had some good finds, she didn’t find the exact plant she was looking for.  _ Oh well, I can come back later _ , she conceded, and with a heavy sigh of defeat and slight tiredness creeping up into her muscles from all the walking she had done that day around town, Claudette turned back the way she had came from and started heading to the bus stop to catch her ride home.

 

The sun was just starting to dip down below the treeline, diminishing Claudette’s available sunlight and making the flashlight app on her phone more and more of a necessity. Also, with the encroaching fog that was starting to waift around her ankles, Claudette figured that she’d better hurry, and picked up the pace from a casual walk to a brisk pace.  _ Weird,  _ she thought,  _ there was no fog called for tonight, in fact, it was supposed to be clear enough to see the meteor shower at 8 o’clock- _

 

A sort of crumpling noise to the right drew a surprised gasp out of the Canadian woman, twisting her body and racing heart to face the noise and quite possibly run for her life if it was a dangerous animal of some sort- but she found no animal, nor anything to cause such a noise. In fact, she saw nothing over in that direction that would warrant her attention any further. Laughing at herself for being scared over quite literally nothing, Claudette had turned back to keep walking when something out of the corner of her eye brought her attention back to her right.

 

 _The plant!_ The one she had originally came out here to look for! But… it was kinda far away, and she really should start heading back especially with this fog getting thicker… a deep instinct inside of her told her to head back, to forget about the plant and just _head back…_

 

But who knew when she might see it again? It wasn’t very commonly spotted and having a live sample of it would be even less common. A bad feeling lingered inside of her as she deviated from her path and took a step towards the plant in the distance, sprouting up above all the sticks and grass around it, as if beckoning and calling her towards it, daring her to come and pluck it.

 

She checked her phone one more time. It was only 4:46; she could spare a minute or so running over there to get it and run back to the bus stop in plenty of time, and that’s what she convinced herself as she darted to the plant, still swiveling her head behind her so she wouldn’t lose track of where she was going.

 

A few moments later, out of breath and still paranoid about being out this far, Claudette slowed her pace and came to a stop just in front of the plant, quickly kneeling down and getting to work on carefully plucking some of the leaves off and placing them gently inside of her shirt pocket. It wasn’t so much as the plant she wanted, more of the leaves _,_ which were known to have a thin layer of a collagen covering it, giving it a dewy feel, which could help to stem the bloodflow of even severe injuries such as a stab wound or even as dangerous as losing a finger. Granted, it couldn’t fully heal someone or give them a finger back, but it could help to keep someone alive until they received proper medical treatment. Not that Claudette was planning on chopping off a finger and testing that theory out…

 

After collecting enough leaves for herself and leaving some for the plant, Claudette got back to her feet and almost fell over with a wave of dizziness and disorientation, as if she was just spun around a bunch on a teacup ride and was suddenly ejected. It only lasted for a few moments, but it was enough to scramble Claudette’s memories and make her temporarily forget what she was supposed to be doing.

 

But that wasn’t even what made her scared, no, it was the heavy fog that had surrounded her within  _ seconds _ , fog that made every breath she took heavy with dampness and  _ fear _ .  _ Something was wrong _ , she knew internally, and suddenly everything came rushing back to her; where she needed to go, what she had been doing, even what she had had for breakfast today.

 

 _It must be this fog, s_ he told herself, and started running as fast as she could back towards the bus stop. _This fog… this fog just startled me so bad it gave me a brief panic attack. There’s nothing to be afraid of, I have plenty of time to make it back._ That thought settled her for a little while, as she kept running and running until her pace slowed and the same wave of confusion came over her before, but this time with more coherence. 

 

_ I should be back by now.  _ Claudette could barely see up ahead of her, but she could tell by the way the ground looked underneath her that was not anywhere near a sidewalk or a road. A sickening feeling built up in the pit of her stomach, giving her a nasty taste in the back of her mouth as she fumbled with her phone to switch off the flashlight for a few moments to check the time and her GPS.

 

The time it read gave her  _ chills _ : 5:27 in the evening. “What!?” She called out loud, her scientific mind trying to come with up an explanation to all of these seemingly inexplicable events going on. The fog could be explained, the brief panic spell she had earlier could be explained, but surely going pass where she needed to be at even though she was certain she was  _ there _ and now the time was 5:27, even though there was no way it could’ve been? That started to make her panic again, chest clenching painfully as a wave of terror and fear tried to overtake her.

 

_ Think, Claudette!  _ She tried to rationale with herself.  _ These woods aren’t that big at all.  _ Her breath had become quick and short, but she pushed herself forward with pure determination and willpower.  _ I’ll either run into the road, the lake, or somebody’s house that lives around the lake.  _ Fingers were clammy as they grabbed opposing forearms, but Claudette didn’t let the fear of the unknown stop her from jogging onwards.  _ I don’t need to panic. As long as I go straight one way, I’ll run into something- _

 

Wolves howled and the hair on the back of Claudette’s neck stood up. A wild sensation of  _ horror  _ nearly overtook her brain, and she started running as fast as she possibly could, faster than she had ever ran before. She didn’t want to be lost in the woods, she didn’t want to be eaten by wolves, she didn’t want to wander around until she passed out from exhaustion and died:  _ how could she be so stupid for thinking this was a good idea- _

 

Stumbling to her knees as she tripped over a raised tree root, Claudette forced herself to  _ stop  _ for a few seconds, to catch her breath and to force down the tears she felt swallowing down her face for reasons beyond her at the moment.  _ What the hell is going on?  _ She read her phone clock again, and it now read 7:39. That was  _ impossible-  _ her phone must be malfunctioning, but all traces of daylight were essentially gone, leaving her in the blue darkness of the woods all alone with nothing but the plants she had picked earlier.

 

Claudette wanted to cry. She really just wanted to lay down and cry and do nothing else for the rest of eternity, but doing that would mean giving up and Claudette Morel did not leave Montreal behind to come to America just to give up _.  _ Brushing the dirt off her knees, Claudette stood back up and walked forward again with a calmer and clearer head, looking around astutely for any signs of anything that might help her out. A sign. Lights, a person- anything at this point.

 

And just a bit to her left, she saw something that didn’t quite blend in well with her environment. She went to turn the flashlight back on her phone, but oddly enough, it refused to come on, only displaying a large  _ “ERROR”  _ sign when she opened the app.  _ Curiouser and curiouser.  _ Using the light provided only by the screen’s backlight, she cautiously approached the discoloration on the ground, which took a more yellow-ish color as the approached until she was close enough to make out the form of a man, slumped up against the broad base of a tree, with some random boxes sitting on by his side which he appeared to be leaning against.

 

Claudette stopped moving once she recognized it was another human being that she was looking at. She could tell it was clearly a man by his bodily proportions, his clothes nearly completely clean except around the edges were a few dirt and scuff marks. Her first assumption was that he was homeless, but he looked too clean and upkept to be a vagabond.

 

She watched him for a few moments, watching his chest rise and fall slowly under a green jacket, and determined that he must be asleep and currently posed no threat to her.  _ Perhaps he was in the same situation that she was in?  _ Still extremely cautious and hypervigilant, she approached the sleeping form, one step at a time until she was able to kneel down beside him and get an up-close look at him in the darkness.

 

His head was dipped to his right and forward slightly, obscuring part of his face, but she could see no marks or signs of injuries. Using her biology knowledge, she carefully pressed a hand on the back and side of his head to feel for any lumps or injuries to which she found none. Asian features struck out prominently to her, and gently tilting his head back she could see even though he had a very thick head of hair, it was fine and very well taken care of, except for the side he was laying on, which was puffed out like he had been rolling on that side on a pillow all night.

 

His hair actually reminded her of a Yorkie her Aunite Juliette had for many years, which made her crack a smile for a few moments until the severity of the situation pressed down upon her again. “Hey.” She spoke softly, a weak attempt at waking the sleeping man who did not stir at her request. Carefully cracking open one of his eyelids, she found his eyes to be dilated but responsive to her movements. “Hey.” She spoke louder this time, almost at a normal volume. Gingerly closing his eyelid and leaving his face alone, her hand moved to his shoulder to give him a shake. 

 

“Hey!” Tone louder than she normally used elicited a response from the unconscious man, who made a noise of discontent and let his head turn more towards her. This time, she used both hands to push at one shoulder, and cleared her throat before almost yelling “HEY!”

 

Eyes flew open, flooded with both sleepiness and alertness, and the man finally woke up, surprisingly grey-ish eyes meeting her own dark brown ones. Her look of being startled must’ve reflected on his face, and she would’ve laughed at his “deer-caught-in-headlights” look if she hadn’t have been as scared as she was, even though she felt better now that someone was with her.

 

“I-I’m sorry.” She apologized first, because it was rude to wake someone up while they were sleeping, even if they were sleeping in a not very safe place. “Can you help me?” She spoke so softly at first she wasn’t even sure she heard herself, so using whatever social stamina she had locked away inside of her for emergency situations, Claudette used the most normal tone of voice she could and stared in his general direction, still too nervous to look into his eyes. “I… I don’t know how, but I got lost. Can you help me out of here?”


	4. The Survivalist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know what's even worse than getting drunk in the woods, running in the woods, or gathering weed in the woods? Living in the damn woods, Karen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the last one strictly from one Survivor's perspective until I introduce the next character (Nea my Swedish wifeu). The next chapter or so will be just all of them running around like a bunch of Rank 20's on a Free To Play Weekend against a Rank 1 Trapper Daddy, then idling in the Alpha Lobby and reading Benedict the Drama Queen's Diary.
> 
> Thank you all again for reading this and leaving kudos n' stuff, and shoutout to Dmod/notthebasement for helping me when it gets too long :) All of it really helps a bunch, and I hope you enjoy!

Most people would balk at you and call you crazy if you told them that you lived out in the middle of the woods, but for Jake Park, that was exactly where he lived and  _ no _ , he wasn’t crazy, even if his father did think so and disinherited the youngest Park son from the family fortune when Jake make his announcement that he has bought a huge tract of land to go and live off of. 

 

Jake found that living in the woods, being surrounded by nature was far more attractive and appealing to him than living in a city in close quarters with people he probably wouldn’t like. Why subject himself to the woes of rich, city life when he could just live on his own, for his own, with nobody but the deers as his closest neighbor? He didn’t want to be rich, he didn’t want his every need and whim catered to by an endless number of servants and maids, he didn’t want to take over the family business- though he did manage to talk the bank into giving him his “trust fund” for finishing college by technically “finishing” college so he could get started.

 

He kinda wishes he’d actually finished college now, just so he could rub it in his father’s face that he actually did something. But that’s a dream long gone now. Maybe he’ll go back to night school when the old man kicks the bucket, but that’ll be at least another few decades.

 

Living on the land is simple in a complicated way: you make nearly everything for yourself which them means you can sustain yourself for pretty much indefinitely. And since he had bought out over 100 acres for his property in the middle of the Blue Ridge Mountains, there was absolutely nothing that could be built even remotely close to him that could disturb the wilderness around him.

 

It was how he wanted to live, and he had the means, the resources, and the grit to do it. He lived by himself, except for the stray dog, cat and  _ owl _ he’d unintentionally adopted and the people who got lost hiking in the Mountains who had stumbled into hsi lands and needed help (poor dumbasses wandering away from a  _ clearly  _ marked trail) or about once or twice a month when he had to walk to the nearest town to buy a few supplies. 

 

And to indulge in some Wendy’s. He blamed his mother’s every two months’ visits for that, but he would never turn her down. In fact, Jake was having an odd dream about the subject, which is why he woke up craving some sort of meat.

 

Waking up meant his dog, Sopa, was laying next to him on his bed, buried somewhere underneath the sheets, her location only would be revealed if Jake pulled back the entire duvet. But this morning, it seemed as if Sopa had gotten a head start, and Jake was specifically woken up by the covers being slowly tugged off of him by his dog. 

 

Even though it was a little bit earlier than what he usually woke up at, Jake knew the consequences if he lied still long enough for her to pull the covers completely off the bed and run down the hall with them. Noticeably grumpy at being awaken early, Jake could barely see out of his sleep-riddled eyes as he sat up in bed and pulled Sopa into his lap so she’d stop uncovering him.

 

“I should put you outside.” An empty threat, considering that the last time he let Sopa sleep outside, she’d lost part of her left ear to a vicious family of racoons. That family still had it in for her, too, so until Jake had gotten rid of them all, Sopa slept inside. That was nearly two years ago. 

 

Instead of apologizing for waking him up, Sopa gave a few happy barks, wagged her tail and jumped off of Jake’s lap and darted for the kitchen to await her breakfast. And his mother always wondered why Jake had told her that he wasn’t too interested in having children: having himself, a dog, cat and owl was plenty to take care of. 

 

Groaning as he got up and stretched his muscles, he felt something in his upper back pop that told him that has back still haven't forgiven him for accidentally picking up one too many logs yesterday that made his arms twitch and beg for him to take it easy today.  _ Maybe I should.  _

 

Slipping a pair of boxes and cargo pants on, Jake pads into the open-area living room/kitchen combo still rubbing sleep from his eyes, and goes straight for his tea packs in his cabinet.

 

He finds his tea packets, and his calico cat, Joker, having a paw slung around the tea box like he normally does (Joker is a good name for him, but he really should’ve named him Little Shit). “Move, Joker.” His voice is still rough from lack of any sort of caffeine and he’s not in the mood to joke around, but Joker only swings his tail at his request.  _ Fine, then.  _

 

After physically removing Joker from his cabinet and placing the feline in a spare kitchen chair, he was free to heat up his stove, boil his water, give some food to Sopa and Joker and himself and sit down for some light breakfast consisting of some eggs he had wrestled from his wrothful chickens, toast made from homemade bread and leftover chicken nuggets from his mother’s last visit. Of course, Sopa and Joker got one apiece, but Jake was a stingy man when it came to sharing his chicken nuggets.

 

Listening to his open airways radio during his breakfast was about as much modern technology as Jake had around his home except for his basic cell phone that he had on him in case of an emergency he couldn’t handle- which gave him flashbacks to the  _ emergency  _ that made him carry one in the first place i.e. a slip of a wood-splitting axe that nearly took his lower leg off. Speaking of which, it must be going to rain soon because the old scar felt throbbing and bothersome this morning. He took the time to grab a scrap of cloth and tie it loosely but firmly around the scar area, which helped relieved some of the discomfort.

 

Leisurely eating and mulling over what he needed to do for today was interrupted once or twice by Sopa and Joker both looking at him longingly for more chicken nuggets even though he had fed them both plenty already, Joker going so far as to sit on the opposing end of the small dining table as stare him down. Jake, fortunately, had a will of iron and did not fall for his cat’s cuteness but it was a hard-fought battle.

 

Finishing with his meal and placing his dirty plate in his sink to wash later, Jake took the remainder of his tea outside to sit on his front porch and take in his surroundings. He had toured many open areas of wilderness and forests across Virginia, even into neighboring states to find a nice area that he could settle down into for the indefinite future, and Jake believes that he couldn’t have chose a better place himself.

 

His mother is always asking him if he’s lonely out here, all alone except for the random hikers he would have to help back to the Trail or hunters who had chased stumbling prey onto his land on accident- which was rare considering how huge his property was, but it happens. But no, besides all of the aforementioned, Jake’s content with living out here, out in the wilds and frontier of the Blue Ridge Mountains with his pets and his mother’s visits. 

 

She’s always pestering him about “meeting someone”, as if he’s going to find a wife or something out here and all Jake could really respond to that was shrug a “maybe”: “maybe” he’ll find someone who shares his values and ideal living situations and “maybe” they won’t be unbearable to live with, but until then he’s happy being alone.

 

His tea is just starting to get cold as he tips his head back to imbibe the last few drops before heading back inside to dump it into the sink to wash it and his dishes…  _ later _ . Stepping over Joker who’s taken to randomly lounging in the middle of the floor, Jake makes his way back to his bedroom to get dressed for the day, namely putting on a white undershirt with a high neck, a blue button-up shirt that he could never button up correctly for the life of him, and his usual green parka, topped off with his scarf his mother had made for him back when he was a teen.

 

Freshening himself up and using the bathroom was the last thing he did before leaving his bedroom area and walking back into his open living area to get his supplies for what he had decided to do today: fishing for salmon and maybe a bit of light game hunting. Picking up his rifle and ammo, he slung the familiar weapon over his shoulders and slung the ammo cartridge around his neck like a satchel. Lastly going for his fishing equipment, Jake made sure everything was in order before checking his home one last time before walking outside and closing the door behind him, making sure it was locked and he had the keys to his small cabin. 

 

Joker had somehow gotten outside and had taken his previous place in his chair, and was now purring and licking himself contently, wrapping himself up in his blanket and chair pillows. Jake sighed in faux annoyment as his chair was currently being used as Joker’s personal spa while he leaned now and gave the top of his head a few scratches and a kiss goodbye. “Don’t scare the chickens again, you little shit.” As if he would listen to him.

 

There was no telling Sopa not to follow him: she would follow him literally anywhere he went unless he forcibly locked her inside and then she would just whine and scratch up all his furniture while he was away. To preserve his nice mahogany interior, Jake found himself letting Sopa tag along more often than not, like today, she was already by his side. “Come on, Sopa!” He called to her, and she was already running towards the creek as if she knew exactly where she was going. 

 

Picking up his pace, Jake was just as excited inside to go fishing for some salmon as Sopa appeared to be: there was just nothing like a wild-caught smoked salmon to have for lunch. It was about a quarter of a mile walk to the creek, but it was a well-worth walk for some fish, and it took shorter than expected with Sopa nipping at his heels.

 

The creek ran fast and swift as usual, Sopa already jumping and and out of the water in a playful manner that made Jake laugh and set down his fishing and hunting supplies on the bank of the water to go and fish her out. “I thought you hated getting wet!” She would fight him tooth and nail if he’d tried to give her any sort of bath, but she would swim in a river all day if she was left to her own devices. 

 

Plucking her out of the water and making her sit between his kneeling legs, Jake rubbed some dirt and water out from around Sopa’s eyes. “You really do need a bath.” He commented while Sopa shook herself dry, evidently done with her skinny dipping for right now. Clicking his tongue and shaking his head in amusement as Sopa shook water at him, he got back to his full height and looked around, looking for a good place to set up camp for a good part of the day-

 

A soft crackling sort of noise from behind him drew his attention from the river behind him, and Jake, senses always finely tuned to the wilderness around him, instantly knew that the noise wasn’t one he’d ever heard before. Staring into the distance to find a source for the noise, Jake didn’t move an inch himself, but Sopa stepped forward and started to growl, something she rarely did unless she felt threatened. “Sopa, shhh.” Holding out his arm to her to calm her down, Jake still didn’t take his eyes away from the direction of the noise, not until he had counted to a good hundred and nothing moved or made further noises.

 

When nothing further came, Jake let out a sigh of relief. Looking down and seeing Sopa in a much less aggressive stance, he knelt down by her to give her a few calming rubs and pets. “The forest is scary, huh?” He asked rhetorically, trying to play off the burst of adrenaline that was still rushing through him with some light-hearted humor that nobody else except the two of them would understand.

 

Jake went to stood up and continue on with what he was doing before the interruption, but Sopa kept acting agitated, whimpering and whining and looking back in the direction of the noise. “Come on, girl- it was just a noise.” But Sopa wouldn’t listen to him, and the longer they both were there, the more distressed his dog became until she started to slowly back up, back towards his house.

 

“Yeah, probably a smart idea.”  _ Well, there goes his fishing trip.  _ A sigh pushes through his nostrils as he turns to collect his gear, realizing that he wouldn’t find no peace today inbetween Sopa and his own on-edge nerves.

 

His hand is less than an inch away from grabbing his fishing pole when the noise is back,  _ far  _ louder and intense, so much so that Jake winces as the noise rings painfully against his eardrums. Then came the cry of what sounded like a bear and a  _ horrible  _ crunching sound that echoed throughout the trees and startled away any and all birds that were perched among the trees.

 

Sopa went wild and started barking more aggressively than Jake’s ever seen her before, dashing forward a couple of yards like she was about to bite someone’s head off. His hand moved from his fishing pole to his rifle and his ammo, slinging the cartilage around his shoulders and moving the rifle to a ready position as he stepped more towards the noise again. 

 

“Sopa!” He tried to call her back to him, but this time she wouldn’t listen to him at all, barking and growling and running back and forth in preparation to fight an unknown threat- but he could still see her shaking, and he could tell she was afraid of whatever laid beyond the light fog that had come over them within the last minute or so. 

 

His dog being afraid unnerved Jake just as bad as the noises itself did: Sopa was not a small dog at all (she weighed about 40 pounds and came up right above his knee) and has killed several small deer before. Making sure his rifle was properly loaded, Jake slowly crept forward into the mist-woven trees, looking all around him for anything that might be moving or making noises. Sopa still ran around but stayed within sight of him, still barking and growling seemingly at everything no matter what Jake told her.

 

His heartbeat pounded in his ears as Jake walked further and further into the fog, eyes peeled and senses wide open to detect anything that out of the ordinary. He walked for several hundred more yards until the fog had gotten so thick around him that he was starting to lose serious long-distance vision, and Jake knew from his years of living out in the wilderness that losing long-distance vision was a danger all in itself. Despite the urging of curiosity in his chest that wanted to investigate deeper, Jake made the conscious decision to turn around.

 

“Sopa!” He called to her, backing up and using his most  _ in charge  _ voice he could to call her to him. “Sopa!” The second time, she stopped barking for a few moments to look at her owner clearly backing up and then turn back out to the distance. “Sopa! Come here!” She looked back and forth a few more times before whining loudly and  _ finally  _ obeying and turning to run back to Jake until a low cry of an animal stopped them both in their tracks.

 

This time, Sopa ran directly to the northeast as a breakneck dog speed. Jake opened his mouth to yell at her to come back again until he saw what she was running at, form barely visible in the dense and heavy fog: a large black bear, laying on its back and not moving except for a few rises and falls of its chest.

 

Something inside of him told him not to go to it, to just call Sopa back and  _ leave _ , but what in the  _ world  _ could bring down a giant black bear like that and leave no trace? Walking quickly but carefully over to where the large animal lie, Jake knelt down by its side and was greeted by a sight that seared itself into his memory: the bear had numerous puncture traveling all up and down its body, horribly mutilated and the wounds seemed to be leaking some sort of orange substance. It was obvious to Jake that the bear could not be helped or saved and that he was watching the bear’s final moments as it struggled in vain to breathe and crawl away.

 

If Jake wasn’t so  _ confused  _ and  _ terrified  _ of just what in the world was going on, he would’ve put the bear out of its misery and picked up Sopa and  _ ran  _ home. “What the  _ fuck-” You know what, that’s not a half-bad idea.  _ Doing what he had just thought of doing moments before minus delivering the final blow to the bear, Jake picked up the yapping Sopa underneath his armpit and started walking  _ very  _ briskly back home, whipping his head around wildly to make sure that the thing that did  _ that  _ to the bear wasn’t anywhere near him.

 

Jake managed to walk a few yards away from the bear before the crackling noise was back and sounded like it was  _ right  _ behind him. Before he could even begin to turn around, he felt the most oppressive and dark presence behind him that he’s ever felt in his  _ existence _ surge up behind him and overtake him. It felt like it forced Sopa out of his grasp along with his rifle, hearing Sopa whimper as she hit the ground and the rifle clatter as it bounced off his feet and rolled away from him.

 

Arms now free, Jake threw them to the side and dashed forward but tripped over his own fallen gun and  _ something  _ snagged his ankle. He landed face first, having the wind knocked out of him and completely disoriented for a few precious moments until he found the adrenaline-fueled sudden strength to force himself to flip over…

 

Jake screamed at the sight he saw: black and orange claws, perhaps a dozen or more, quickly descending upon him and enveloping him in their inky blackness before he could even try to reach his gun. The world around him dimmed and became muffled, the crackling noises becoming almost a deafening level as it overtook the sound of Sopa whimpering and barking outside of the cocoon he was encaged in. 

 

He kicked and punch and screamed at the mass around him, switching from Flight to Fight mode as he realized that he was trapped. Everything around him was becoming tighter and tighter until he couldn’t psychically move to fight anymore and his already darkened vision started to blur along the edges. Crackling noises were soon matched alongside whispering that Jake couldn’t make heads or tails of, and despite the burst of energy coursing through his veins, Jake quickly found himself overcome with tiredness and exhaustion as if he was injected with a high dose of morphine and passed out within moments of being locked into position.

 

_ Why did I do that?  _ He thought frantically to himself as he tried to fight the insurmountable tiredness that was enveloping him.  _ Why didn’t I just leave the first time? Why didn’t I turn around? What’s...what’s going to happen to them… and Mom… Mom’s going to be so upset… _ Everything ceased for Jake Park at that moment, nothing but a blank void of dreamless sleep remained of his subconsciousness.  _ I’ve died,  _ he proto-thought,  _ whatever that was killed me and I’m dead. This is it. This is how I fucking die, isn’t it? Like, some alien-creature thing just fucking ate me whole and  _ **_didn’t_ ** _ eat my dog? What kind of bullshit logic is th- _

 

“HEY!”

 

_ Somebody  _ woke him up.

 

Eyes flying open to stare at whoever had awaken him, Jake was torn between screaming and backing away in pure terror or just going stock still and figure out if he had just been on a really bad weed trip or did all of that just actually happened.

 

He opted for the latter, and the girl continued on to speak, seemingly with great force to tell him that she was lost and that she needed help. Could she be a lost hiker? If so, Jake would  _ gladly  _ deal with that, even if he wasn’t sure where the hell  _ he  _ was.

 

“Hey-” He said back, clearing his throat and sitting up from where he had apparently passed out against bunch of… _ boxes _ ? These weren’t his, and he’s never seen any kind of boxes like that before. “Uh…”  _ How does he explain that he has no idea what the fuck is even going on?  _ “I’m sorry, um-”  _ Come on, Jake, where’s your social skills?  _

 

“I… don’t recall exactly how I got here.” Scratching the back of his head and feeling for any lumps or bruises that would explain the bizarre dream he had… if it was even a dream. Feeling none, Jake picks his head up and finally gets a good look at the woman who’s awaken him: dark skinned with thick, braided hair with even thicker glasses and she was  _ poorly  _ underdressed for the climate of the Blue Ridges and she lacked any sort of hiking gear and her accent sounded more French than anything.

 

While the sight of another human was a rare sight for Jake’s sore eyes, the fact that stood out the most was that  _ she didn’t look like a hiker.  _ “You-you don’t?” The woman, who already looked scared shitless became visibly rattled at his statement and there was  _ something  _ about the way that her entire demeanor changed when he said that that make Jake try to reassure her. “But I live around here.”  _ I think.  _ “I can get you back to the Trail, at least.”

 

“Trail?” She questioned, and Jake felt a ball of dread drop into the pit of his stomach at her confused look. “The Trail.” Jake restated, slower and with more force. “The Appalachian Trail.”

 

She just shook her head a resounding  _ no _ , and brought her hands together to start wringing her fingers. “I don’t know where that is, sorry.”

 

“What do you mean-” He started, agitated that he wasn’t getting any answers and only more questions. He stopped himself short from taking a more negative tone of voice with the woman who  _ clearly  _ had no idea where she was just as much as he didn’t either, and having little patience in this sort of situation would only makes this worse. Jake sighed in frustration over the situation they were in, and decided to get to his feet, turning down the woman extending her hand to him with a dismissing noise of his own. “I’m sorry, I just… I’m really confused about where I am.”

 

“S-same.” She spoke, watching him dust off the back of his pants with glove-covered hands. “Well...I mean, I know  _ what  _ happened, but  _ how _ …” She laughed a nervous chuckle, looking away from Jake. “I c-can’t explain it.” 

 

Jake matched her eye wandering, but with the intent of taking stock of his surroundings and trying to figure out just where they were (if they were even still on his property). “It’s okay.” He reassured her even though he lacked confidence in his own words. “I live in the woods. I can figure out where we are.”

 

“Okay.” She stood still, staring up at Jake with a look of expectation that really made him feel like he was put on the spotlight with the weight of the world put upon him. Feeling like staring at her would feel too awkward, Jake tilted his head back, looking for any stars or signs of civilization and finding… absolutely nothing. 

 

The sky was grey-blue completely void of any clouds or stars or light, save for a far too bright and close moon that honestly made Jake wonder if someone  _ did  _ something to the moon for it to be so close, but all Jake was seeing was giant red flags all over the place. “Okay.” He says again, this time more in surprise and confusion. “There’s no stars in the sky.” For a moment, he forgets that he’s with someone and talks to himself like he usually does since he doesn’t live with or near anybody who will point it out and catches himself too late to save himself some embarrassment.

 

“What?” She asks, and Jake feels her step next to him to look up alongside him to see that there were, in fact, no stars to be seen anywhere in the sky. “That can’t be possible, can it?”

 

“Shouldn’t be.” He agrees with her and tilts his head back and forth as if he were trying to find a star hidden behind a canopy of leaves above him. It then he notices that the trees, the smell, the atmosphere around him is  _ vastly  _ different than his homeland. A twinge of fear strikes in his chest again, but he pushes it down with a calm wave of bravery and turns to look down at his smaller company. She looks just as perplexed as he does as they meet eyes for a brief moment; she looks as if she could just collapse at any moment from stress and anxiety, and Jake internally commends her for keeping herself together.

 

“I think that we should move.” She whispers out. “I… we don’t know where we are, and all of this is super weird.”

 

Jake gives her idea a moment’s pause to think about it before agreeing with her, taking the lead in walking forward. “We’ll find something.” His attempts to reassure her again is meant with evident success, as the corners of her lips tug upwards and she follows close behind him, but not close enough to touch, which he was thankful for not having someone cling to him in this particularly stressful situation.

 

They moved forward in silence for a few moments before a quiet voice broke it. “My name is Claudette.” Jake doesn’t stop walking, but nods politely to acknowledge her formality. “Jake. Nice to meet you.” The  _ you  _ lingers on his tongue as they blindly continue forward, Claudette one step behind him at all times. The sounds of crows cawing and crickets chirping filled the void of their lack of communication and helped to bring Jake to a sense of calm and peacefulness even in this unknown situation. The environment, though somewhat  _ unnerving _ , wasn’t all that much different to his home environment-

 

“What’s that?” Claudette had suddenly stepped up beside him, tapped his arm, and pointed a bit to their right at something solid and glinting in a small clearing up ahead standing tall and proud and seemingly illuminated by rays of moonlight cascading down from the open canopy above it. Jake has an instinctual urge to get closer, and it seemed that Claudette felt the same instinct as she still followed closely behind him until they were close enough to see it was some type of machinery.

 

Again, Jake and Claudette shared the same urge to get closer and closer  _ until- _

 

A female-sounding scream rang out from behind them, and they both whipped around with a gasp of shock from Claudette. The woman at his side stood as stock still as he did for a pregnant pause before she started to move quickly forward-

 

_ Oh, hell no.  _ Jake would never admit how fearful he really was of everything that was going on, but he’ll be  _ damned  _ if he lets the one assumingly friendly person around run away from him. “No!” He whispers, reaching out to grab her arm, now mindful of just how loud he was speaking incase that woman’s scream implied  _ danger  _ stomping around. “We don’t know who that is- it could be a trick or something.” He pulls her back to him the distance of one step and re-guides her back to the machine in front of them.

 

“But what if they need help?” Claudette responded, remaining firm against his pull for a moment with a brief flair of confidence that takes Jake back for a moment and forces him to reconsider his previous decision.  _ God, she must think I’m an asshole.  _ “ _ We _ need help! And is it just me- or do I have the urge to repair that?” Pointing to the machine, Claudette didn’t even have to answer him to know that he was right, that she felt the same compulsion as he did. 

 

Jake pulls her arm in his grasp again, this time trying to be more gentle, to get her going towards the generator-looking machine this time without verbal protest (but he does not fail to notice the way she looks longingly back towards the scream). Claudette follows him right up to the generator and takes a place next to him as they both kneel down on adjoining sides of the machine, both reaching hands inside the gears and wires almost without a second thought in a concerted attempt to repair it.

 

Claudette had essentially no mechanical background, the out of place gears and the disconnected wires feeling both foreign and familiar at the same time. Jake had some decent education in mechanical teachings and repairs, both learned from elite schools and self-taught from his life in the wild, so with his experienced eyes searching carefully inside of the interior for some sort of jumpstart or main wire… and luck must be shining down upon him because he finds it with relative ease and traces it back to its source in the heart of the machine.

 

Jake finds the wires flexible and easily extendable, able to pull them out far enough so that he can hold then above his knees and work on bringing the two cut wires back together while his heart continues to race.  _ Calm down, it’s just a machine _ , he chastised himself- but his heartbeat continued to pound and race all around him, in his chest, in his head, in his soul- it was so unlike anything that he had experienced before, and he had stared wild animals down who had their sights locked onto him with blood in their eyes and claimed him their dinner.

 

_ It’s fine _ , he kept trying to tell himself with moderate success but with his own nervousness increasing with his own heartbeat. Jake keeps pressing the tips of the wires together, trying to create enough of a spark from the live wires to jumpstart the generator, each try jolting the generator further and further towards life. _ This is clearly someone’s land and starting this will alert them that we need help and then hopefully we can be on our way- _

 

Just as the machine boomed to life under his hands, he heard Claudette led out a series of  _ terrifying  _ screams next to him, scaring him enough that he completely drops the wires he was holding and twists around to see what was wrong: Claudette is dangling in the air, suspended by a…  _ thing  _ that has picked the small woman up by her arms and held her for a few moments until a sickening crunching of bones and muscles was heard, and Claudette fell silent except for a few choking gasps and grasping at her now punctured shoulder.

 

Jake fell back onto his hands, scrambling backwards with his mouth hanging open in shock and fright, helplessly staring at the sight of the woman now literally hanging from a hook high enough in that air that she was now taller than the  _ creature  _ that stood next to her, staring at her like she was a piece of  _ meat  _ to be admired.

 

He suddenly had flashbacks to what had happened earlier: being out with his dog, finding that mutilated orange-oozing bear and then being captured by those otherworldly claws… Jake had a horrifying realization that all of this had to be connected and that all of this was bad. Very, very bad.

 

“No.” He muttered out in disbelief of all that was occuring, scrambling back farther as the creature turned to face him. “No, no, what the hell?” It took a step towards him, and then another. “No!” The dark-skinned, leathery looking monster approached him, overalls glistening off the moonlight that showed off specks of fresh and dried blood and gore. 

 

Jake let out a short scream, mind scrambled so much from the soul-crushing, incomprehensible panic he was feeling that he didn’t know what else he could do besides try to crawl backwards. The monster walked faster towards him until heavy boots stepped inbetween his splayed legs. Jake held his hand up, a weak attempt to stop the beast. “No! NO! STOP!” But it did him no good; Jake knew internally that he was going to end up the same way Claudette was, to be left on a meat hook where even more unfathomable torture awaits him, but he holds his arm up as if it will protect him from the weapon being raised up high in the sky.

 

At the last second, Jake leans back to try and avoid the swing but it is in vain. The blinding flash of pain that hits him as the weapon is brought down on his shoulder and cleaves flesh and bones open. It’s so intense that he can only let out a strangled, half-choked scream before the sensations overwhelm his nerves and brain and forces him into unconsciousness, and the last thing that Jake feels and remembers is the disturbing sensation of being lifted up and slung across the creature’s back.

 

His world and vision fades with a last look at Claudette’s dangling feet and the thought that if they had met under better circumstances, they might have been good acquaintances, maybe even friends.  _ His mother would never let him hear the end of that. _

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Love Jake Park.


	5. Liberation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg manages to free herself and finds out that brick walls are stupid.
> 
> Or, Rank 20 immersion ftw !
> 
> (Thanks again for all the love and support- it really makes me gucci !)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i said it'd be the last chapter from a single survivors perspective... but nah sowwry

“HELP! PLEASE! SOMEONE!” Cutting her hands and leg even further while struggling out of pure desperation, Meg cried out over and over again in hopes that someone would hear her and come to her aid. The heavy sound that had started making its way towards her had faded away until it had gone as quick as it appeared, taking any hopes of rescue with it.

 

“S-someone!? Anyone!?  _ Please- _ ” The final plead was nothing more than a sob as emotions overtook her; Meg started crying like a child without their mother, blinding herself with her tears in hopes her parent would hear her. But she knew that would never happen, that this was  _ real  _ and that no one would come to help her except for herself.

 

_ I’m all alone _ , Meg realized, sniffling back snot and forcing her sobs to subside into wet hiccups while pushing back the agonizing pain of being trapped.  _ If I don’t get myself out of here, no one will.  _ Feeling a new surge of determination at that thought, Meg shakily inhaled through her mouth, closing her eyes and tilting her head back so that she could give herself a few moments to avoid looking at her grievous injury. Whispering a silent prayer to God above, Meg opened her eyes and slowly tipped her head down to look at a mess of blood and gore-

 

Another feminine scream rang out, distracting Megan for a few moments from her pain to look out into the distance while another more masculine voice screamed within seconds of the feminine voice. It sent chills down Meg’s spine knowing that there were others in pain and danger out there- suddenly, she was glad that whatever had begun to approach her left because it might not have been friendly after all, and she shudders to think what  _ else  _ might’ve happened to her if they had came.

 

“Okay. Okay, okay, okay, I can do this-” Psyching herself up, Meg wiped her blood-slicked hands against her leggings to dry them before grabbing the begrimed edges of the trap around her shin, fingers shaking violently and brushing up against exposed wounds. Pain shot up her body, and Meg twisted her head to the side to throw up acid, spitting it out onto the ground beside her before turning back to her mission and steeling her shoulders before using all of her strength and force to pull the trap open.

 

At first, it didn’t budge more than a centimeter either way until it fell completely open, shocking Meg who was about to give up on her attempt into falling over to her side, leg slipping free of the crushing trap. Crying out in a rush of relief, the runner scrambled away on her good leg away from the now closed jaws of the trap, blood  _ (her blood) _ dripping from its rusted teeth, watching in horror as rivulets stained the dirt a shiny red on the ground.

 

“Oh God.” Meg continued to scramble away mindlessly, cradling her injured leg with her hand. “Oh God, what the  _ fuck  _ is going on here?” She wanted to run, run as far away from all of this as fast as she could, but her leg was pretty much ruined and she would be lucky if she could manage to limp out of these woods. Which was what Meg had decided to do once she thought of it, getting to her good foot as fast as she could and slowly hopping her way back the way she came, absolutely refusing to look down at her mangled leg because she knew she would start hyperventilating worse than what she already was and probably would pass out. 

 

Every step wrenched a moan of pain from her as her body and leg were jarred agonizingly with each step, having to lean on every tree that she came across to fight the wave of dizziness that ebbed and flowed like the tide whenever she moved forward. It was her desperation to get home, to see her mother again that pushed her onward, not wanting to think about what would happen to the poor woman if she never returned home like she promised.

 

Another masculine scream rang out, sounding nearly identical but twice as terrifying as before. Meg twisted her head around again, looking towards the source of the scream to maybe judge how far away it was-

 

_ What is that?  _

 

There was a red… aura, the only word she could think of to use, of a swaying form that disturbingly resembled a human figure swaying in the breeze. Stopping to stare, Meg felt as if her mind was beginning to lose its grip on reality as nothing that she was seeing made sense, much less even possible. Looking down at her wound, she could see a vast pool of blood beneath her still form, and the same size pools trailing behind where she had walked.  _ That was a lot of blood.  _ Granted, her leg felt like it was nearly chopped in two, but she oddly enough didn’t feel like she was suffering from blood loss or anything like that- besides feeling an extreme amount of pain.

 

This was  _ crazy _ ,  _ insane _ ,  _ incomprehensible _ , and Meg Thomas couldn’t make sense of anything for the life of her, but she knew she had to get away. Turning her back on the glowing red aura, Meg started limping at the fastest pace she could away from everything going on, her mind focusing on her ultimate goal of escape as she wound her ways through trees and oddly stacked and placed boxes that she surely left bloody handprints behind on. She eventually ran into a series of brick walls that wound around each other in an even odder way that confused her with its maze, but made her way out after spotting a flaming barrel outside of the maze and going towards it.

 

Meg had no idea why there was a flaming barrel seemingly in the middle of nowhere, but she didn’t stop to ask it directly and kept going until she ran into a huge metal door that was cold to the touch and stood forebodingly high in the air, far towering over the athlete.

 

_ Wait, a door?  _ Doors are meant to keep people out… or in. Blinking tears of pain back as she shifted backwards and jostled her injured leg the wrong way, Meg looked up at the door, scanning her eyes back and forth until she noticed that on either side of the metal door was long brick walls, the same kind of brick that she found herself turned around in earlier. They went on for as long as she could see, winding deeper and deeper into the forest in such a way that made Meg’s heart constrict because it looked to be keeping her  _ in. _

 

_ Brick walls are stupid. _

 

Meg let a single sob escape her throat before pulling herself together, gathering her resolve to look around for more clues or little tidbits of information that could help her escape. The only thing that gave her hope was that right next to the door, there was was looked like to be a huge lever plastered onto some kind of metal plate with a bunch of pipes and wires extending from it. She raised a stained and sweaty hand up to the lever and gave it the hardest pull she could, but nothing came of it. The lever jerked all of one centimeter as if to let her know that it  _ was  _ pullable, but refused to budge anymore no matter how hard she tugged on it.

 

“Damn it.” She swore, backing away from the gate while thinking of what to do next. Meg turned around to lean against the cool metal of the door, letting it chill her heated skin as her mind raced. She was somewhat relieved that the glowing red thingy from earlier was gone, replaced with nothing but the expanse of the forest she was trapped in.  _ Use your head, Meg _ . Her old track coach always had good advice for when she was in a tricky situation, and even now she found herself thinking back to her old track days.

 

If there were people screaming, that means they must be in trouble, just like she was. That probably meant that… something was causing the pain, right? Like a serial killer or some fucked up cult-shit like that. If they're being hurt or in trouble like she was, maybe they knew more than she did about everything that was going on and could help her out of here! The thought of finding someone,  _ anyone _ , would at the very least wouldn’t hurt her drove Meg to get back to her feet to seek out others-

 

_ Ba-thump _

 

Meg stopped completely in her tracks at the sudden heartbeat, the familiar sound of a human heartbeat that she checked and found that it  _ wasn’t  _ coming from her.

 

_ Ba-thump, Ba-thump _

 

It was getting louder and closer, and Meg wasn’t going to take any chances on finding out if it was a friendly or not. Braids whipping against her shoulders and cheeks as she twisted about to find the source of the noise, she gave up on looking in favor of ducking down behind a large rock and tree to conceal herself from anybody walking by. 

 

_ Ba-thump ba-thumpbathumpbathump- _

 

The heartbeat had increased to a meteoric pace that threatened to make Meg’s own heart burst out of her chest and left Meg feeling frantic and panicked to stay out of sight. She was suddenly aware of how loud her own breathing and sighs of pain were, and she slapped a hand over her own mouth to quiet herself as best as she could while the heartbeat got louder and louder-

 

The sound of feet hitting the dirt startled her, and the heavy sound of a man gasping for air seemed to whip past her. She couldn’t get a look at him due to hiding behind the terrain, but she could  _ hear  _ the terror in his breathing, in his running as the sound of him running was eclipsed by that heavy sound that she had heard earlier. That was they only term she could use to describe it-  _ heavy _ , as if the weight of the world was on their shoulders and urging them forward with all haste. Unnatural- almost animalistic breathing surrounded her as the thing moved by her in pursuit of the other person and Meg was selfishly happy that they were chasing someone else, not her.

 

It all came to a crescendo just moments later as the man and other beast whizzed past her in a hurry, and then the sounds started to slowly retreat, the heartbeat fading away until it was a dull throb in her ears and fizzled away completely, leaving her alone with her painful heapfuls of air and the sound of nature all around her, mocking her with its tranquility and peacefulness. The hand covering her mouth dropped to her stomach to give her a moment’s rest to process just how close she just probably avoided  _ death _ until everything else caught up to her. She had to keep moving; she had to keep trying to find a way out of here. The metal door had given her hope that  _ somehow  _ it could be powered up to open and lead to her escape- the only question was where could a power source be located in a place like this?

 

Meg clamored back to her feet again, sparing her trashed leg as much as she could while using the rock to keep herself upright. She didn’t look over to where the man had ran to, too scared of what she might see if she did, and started walking as fast as she could to get away from the predator on the prowl.  _ Keep looking forward, Meg. Don’t ever look back.  _ Like  _ hell  _ she was going to look back now.

 

With her eyes cast slightly upwards to keep a close watch as to where the brick wall outlining the perimeter ran to, Meg almost added a head injury to her list of already serious wounds when she ran into something cold and hard, clearly not something natural for a forest. Turning her vision back towards the ground, she discovered that she had collided into a generator-looking machine of sorts, which prompted a painful smile from Meg when she realized that  _ this  _ could be her ticket out of here.

 

Only problem was: she had never worked on any machinery in her life. The most complicated thing she knew how to work was her phone  _ (speaking of which) _ . Remember the device, the athlete pulled it out to see if she had gotten a signal yet or perhaps turned on her flashlight. Nothing worked, even her flashlight app flashed a big, red  _ ERROR  _ on the screen until she closed the app. Seeing that technology wasn’t going to help her at all, Meg decided that she was going to have to get her hands dirty with fiddling with the machine until something clicked and worked.

 

Carefully maneuvering her leg so that she could kneel next to the generator, Meg bit back a cry of pain when she her leg muscles twitched the wrong was, and quite literally thrusted both hands into the machine as if she was performing open-heart surgery-

 

It blew up in her face, singing her fingertips and the ends of her braids. Meg jumped back in shock and pain, not being able to stop her cry of pain this time when she fell back onto her leg wrong. A slight  _ crack!  _ was heard as she felt her shin bones crack further and Meg turned her head out the side to retch out her pain with an empty stomach, only hacking up acid and bile.

 

_ Okay _ , apparently shoving both hands into a generator at one time was  _ not  _ what you’re supposed to do. _ Lesson learned. _

 

Crawling back to the generator, Meg put her hands back into the interior of the machine much more slowly than before, trying to be as delicate as she could so it didn’t blow up in her face again. It seemed as if she was successful in that regard, as the dormant pistons on top started to slowly chug to life when she turned a gear to the right. Growing bolder, Meg bit her lip in pain and concentration as she experimentally moved a couple of wires around inside and found that the pistons started to chug a little bit harder.

 

Cheering internally, Meg grew more brave and plugged the two ends of two severed wires together and found that it made a high-pitched  _ ding!  _ noise and more pistons joined in to chug with the first one. Meg didn’t stop to think about it as she kept putting things together almost on pure instinct, as if she had been repairing these things all of her life while the pistons chugged harder and harder until Meg feared they would simply pop off in her face-

 

With a loud mechanical sound, the generator burst to life, blinding her with the bright intensity of the light that emanated from it once it had fully come on-line. Hope filling her soul, Meg quickly hobbled her way back over to the gate but disappointment soon replaced hope as she tried the level again and found it still not budgeable. But, oddly enough, it no longer felt cold to the touch, a soft heat radiating from the metal plate that she hoped was because of the generator she just turned on.

 

_ Does that mean she needs to do more to open the gate?  _ If so, whoever was holding her here better hope that she doesn’t get the drop on them because she’s going to beat their ass for making this some kind of sick  _ game  _ where they had to power on generator things to open a gate to escape. An ugly scowl set upon Meg’s face as she realized that might be  _ exactly  _ what is going on here, and turned away from the gate to follow the brick wall until she found another generator to turn on until  _ that  _ sound came back.

 

_ Ba-thump. Ba-thump. _

 

“Oh, no.” Meg muttered to herself, quickly finding some more rocks and boxes to duck behind as the heartbeat came back into hearing range. “Fuck me, where-” She looked around for a few moments to see if she could find a better place to hide since her spot was not as closed off as her previous spot, but with the sound getting closer and closer, Meg dared not to risk running back to where she had been. The woman hunkered down in her spot, grass tortuously tickling her open wound and drawing a stifled groan of pain from her until she covered her mouth again in an attempt to quiet herself like before.

 

_ Ba-thumpbathump- _

 

Like before, the sound of someone running came before the heavy sounds of whatever was chasing them, but this person running sounded different than she heard before and in  _ clear pain  _ if their groans and cries of anguish were anything to go by. They soon came close enough for Meg to hear them muttering frantically under their breath as they stumbled throughout the forest and pushed themselves off of whatever they had nearly ran face-first into. This time, they came close enough to where Meg could  _ see  _ who it was whether she wanted to or not: a man by the looks of it, wearing green and orange and something gray flapping about their neck as they ran by her.

 

They ran so close to her that the dirt they kicked up sprayed on her face along with another warm substance she’d rather not think about. Meg could see that there was a large red gash at the top of one of their shoulders and that they were keeping that arm close to their body as they ran- Meg forgot about inspecting the person as that heavy sound came up behind her, closer and closer as Meg tried to made herself as small as possible in her little nook, closing her eyes so she didn’t see any pain coming her way, counting and praying it all gone…

 

A scream rang out, but it wasn’t hers. Her eyes flew open again to see what she saw as a  _ monster  _ wiping off a cleaver off onto its forearm as it stood over the man that had just ran by her moments ago who was now laying on the ground  on his front in a crumpled mess. Even from a distance, she could see a new gash along his back and hear his cries of agony that she felt truly sorry for, but made no move to put herself inbetween the monster and him.

 

Surprisingly, the monster made some sort of pleased humming noise and let his arms drop back down to his sides in a ready position, incase the man decided to get back up again which would’ve  _ astounded  _ her. “Not good enough.” The beast spoke in a both human and non-human voice all at once, and stepped closer to the man on the ground who picked up his face off of the soil to look at the monster...but met Meg’s horrified gaze instead. They locked eyes for a brief moment, long enough that the color of his wide greyish eyes will forever be locked into her memory until the monster bent down to grab the back of his clothes and noticed that the man was looking at her.

 

The monster started to follow where the man was looking at, but the man on the ground suddenly kicked and thrashed at the monster in a way Meg intuitively knew was to draw his attention back to him, and it seemed to have worked for the monster finished picking him up, slung him over his shoulders and turned around to walk away, the man wiggling and thrashing as much as she could to get away from the beast’s grasp.

 

But Meg saw that it was all for nothing as she watched helplessly: the monster came to stop in front of something, the man was thrown off the monster’s shoulders and thrown onto a hook that drew one of the most painful and saddening screams she had ever heard in her life from the poor man. 

 

What happened next made Meg seriously start to doubt her sanity.

 

Large black claws sprouted up from all around the hook he was placed on, and descended upon the poor man, one stabbing him in his stomach while another one went through his chest and another one yet still came up through his back and out through his lower stomach. All of these claws worked together to hoist his vanishing body up off the hook and onto the sky, taking the surrounding tops of trees with it and into a giant mess of even bigger claws that was suspended over the scene of the man’s demise and bought his black and transparent body up into with a horrible groaning and chittering noise before it vanished. Everything reset as if it never happened, except for the hook that he was placed on clattered to the ground, utterly unusable and then the beast who had stared and watched all of this happen with rapt attention, moved away from the site and walked  _ (thankfully)  _ away from her.

 

Meg couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe as she watched all of this happened, unable to make sense of anything that she just saw. The pain from her leg momentarily vanished as she struggled to come up with something rational to explain what had just transpired, but absolutely nothing came to mind. The only,  _ only  _ thing that she could think of is that some weird alien-shit was going on and that she and everyone else here was on the menu, but even she couldn’t put stock in  _ that. _

 

Fear of the unknown clamped around her chest, constricing painfully as she started to make her way to her feet again, knowing that if she stayed there that the beats would come back and  _ that  _ would happen to her. If she had to repair generators to open up a gate to escape  _ that  _ thing, then she would. Meg would play this fucked up game for as long as she had to until she could make her escape, and nobody better not try to stop her.

 

 

 


	6. Closing In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwight decides to be the Man. For once, it actually works out for him.
> 
> Or a Rank 20 actually pulling off a Safe Hook Rescue? Must be hacking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey yall! are you having a good time? I AM!
> 
> jk but im actually having fun with this story but i hate that it takes SO LONG to write out One Particular Scene. I promise Claudette will have a relatively short chapter next so I can move on to Meg and hopefully finish up the first trail there because I hate dragging things out but I really like how this is going.
> 
> Lie always, I appreciate all the love and support and it really encourages me to go forward. Have a good day/afternoon/night!
> 
> Also shoutout to Dmod/notthebasement once again for Life.

Dwight unconsciously raised a hand to his mouth to gnaw on his fingernails as he came up closer to inspect the machine he had nearly ran into, squinting behind thick glasses to look for any instructions printed on the machine or any sort of switch to turn it on. Dwight couldn’t even find where the thing was connected to any sort of lighting or structure. He even walked around it once, searching high and low for any sort of on/off switch, and found none. 

 

_ What kind of generator has no switch?  _ Dwight thought as he walked around the machine once more until he started feeling dizzy and had to stop. Dwight felt something within him,  _ urging  _ him to start working on it, but why? It wasn’t connected to anything, so there’d be no point-

 

Rustling and low whispers come from somewhere to his side, and Dwight is already far too skittish and on-edge about the monster he saw earlier to be particularly well-receptive that anyone he might come across. Dwight turns and runs, hiding behind a line of low fence, boxes and dark and tall grass, pressing himself against another thick tree and making himself as small as possible again, camouflaging himself from whoever might be out there,  _ especially  _ when he hears a voice screaming, ringing out painfully against his eardrums.  _ Someone didn’t get a warning like I did, apparently. _

 

He’s too scared to turn around to see what’s going on, but Dwight hears some more soft whispering before the voices fall silent and the sound of mechanical things being worked on  _ (presumably the generator) _ fill the air. Dwight didn’t want to take the chance on fucking himself up even more by walking out there all willy-nilly only to find the people that he presumed friendly were not his friends at all. It would be just his luck if that were true.

 

So, Dwight simply sits back and listens to what is going on beyond his field of vision, still trying to calm and sort his muddled mind, trying to banish the images of the monster that had  _ kissed  _ him earlier from behind his eyelids. There are no more whispers of quiet talking from beyond his little barrier of safety, but the mechanical sound increase in intensity until it’s grating on his ears and Dwight is  _ seriously  _ concerned that he’s about to be blown up-

 

The sound of the machine coming online with a weird  _ ding!  _ is completely oversighted by the sound of a woman screaming, much closer this time than the scream he had heard before. The sound of crunching and squelching of what he hopes  _ isn’t  _ human flesh staples itself to his already traumatized memory, and Dwight further curls in on himself as the woman falls silent to protect himself from the danger all around him.

 

_ Just ignore it all.  _ His hands clamped around his ears in a vain attempt to block out the sounds of horror all around him.  _ Maybe it won’t be real if I don’t hear it happening.  _

 

But that line of thought changed as yet another scream forced him out of his thoughts. It the sound of more crunching and destruction of human flesh and bone that sparked a change in Dwight Fairfield, and in the span of a moment he  _ knew  _ that if he didn’t help those people out there that they would  _ die  _ and leave him alone with that monster.

 

Driven by the urge to not face that monster alone again, Dwight lets his hands drop from their protective hold over his head and crawled to the end of the lopsided fence to peek past the end of it. He inhaled sharply at the sight of a body lying in a heap on the ground, fresh blood oozing from a large wound but didn’t- couldn’t look away from it like a train wreck, and that’s not even considering how  _ horrified  _ Dwight felt when he caught sight of a woman dangling in the air with a piece of metal sticking from a mangled shoulder.

 

The monster was there, too, in all of his glory, but luckily Dwight remained unseen by him. In one scooping motion that was far too easy for Dwight’s liking, the beast had picked up the body laying on the ground and slung them over his shoulders like a pizza box and started walking past the woman in the air. As the monster picked the body up, Dwight got to his feet as quietly as he could and with every step the beast took away from him, Dwight took one forward.

 

Until,  _ of course _ , he stepped on a random tree branch and the monster stopped. Dwight stopped too, every muscle in his body freezing up and going tense as he watched with bated breath as the behemoth twists his head to the side in a obseningly slow manner to draw out the suspense that drips off of Dwight’s forehead. The seconds ticks by before the monster decides to ignore the branch that had snapped behind him and continues walking off into the fog with the body  _ (a man, looks like)  _ still on his shoulders.

 

That wasn’t Dwight getting lucky and the maniac not seeing him; that was him being toyed with like a kid with leftover broccoli on its plate. And he was the brocoli.

 

As soon as the beast had vanished from sight, Dwight tore his eyes away from its massive, retreating form and rushed over to the dangling woman whom he discovered was still  _ miraculously alive _ , hanging from what he discovered to be a hook. Her gurgling and choking on her own blood disturbed him and made his heart ache for the woman who Dwight was sure was in horrible pain even though she appeared to be half-conscious.

 

“Hey.” He spoke softly. Hoping to get her awake, reached out to grab the hand opposite of the shoulder had been penetrated and gave it a light squeeze. The office worker gave him a brief look over, determining that even though she was suspended up high in the air, he could probably lift her up and off the thing if she was as lightweight as she looked. “Hey, I- I think I can get you down from here.”

 

The woman hardly moved, but her eyes cracked open against the pain and gazed at him. “H-h-help me.” A small rivulet of blood leaked out of the corner of her mouth and Dwight grimaced. Not responding right away, Dwight decided that grabbing her underneath her armpits and hoisting her off the hook would be the best way he could get her down.

 

A light squeeze of her hand was the most comfort Dwight would allow for the time being before moving his hands to slip underneath her armpits. “I think I can lift you off. This-this is gonna hurt, I’m sorry.” Apologizing in advance, Dwight didn’t give her a chance to protest before following through with his plan, grunting with the effort it took to push her up, swallowing the bile that rose in his throat at the squelching of blood and gore that mixed with her cry of pain.

 

Amazingly, it  _ worked _ . The had gotten her down, saved her life, even! But she swayed as soon as her feet touched the ground and Dwight had to grasp her bodily to keep her upright, trying to avoid her large shoulder wound. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He apologizes again, now frantically trying to make a crude bandage to patch her wounds from his own shirt by ripping from a hole made by a branch he slept on. A small sliver of cloth was all that came off of it, but Dwight assumed that it would be enough for now.

 

Folding the cloth over into a squarish shape, he pressed it to her wound in hopes of staunching the blood flow. “I’m so sorry. This… I don’t have a first aid kit, so this is the best I could do.” A shaky, dark hand comes to rest over his and adds to the pressure for the wound, and her light chuckle raises his spirits considerably. 

 

“It’s- it is alright.” She spoke with a light accent, one he decides is French-sounding and makes him crave a baguette. “Nothing makes  _ ah  _ sense here.” Her moan of pain is loud with her slight movement adjusting her bandage, which is already turning a crimson red that Dwight knew would never wash out. Dwight already felt so bad for her and he didn’t even know her name. 

 

Wrapping an arm around her waist, Dwight helped to get her away from the hook and to not keep her standing in a puddle of her own blood. “I think it’s best if he hide. If he sees you’re not… there, he’ll try and find you.” The man had absolutely no idea if that were true or not, but he had a gut feeling that it was and he’d rather not find out.

 

The woman bites her lips and audibly swallows as she leans against him, sparring her shoulder as much as she could while she limped away with Dwight into the treeline. The sound of the whirring generator was soon out of range-

 

Only to be replaced by a man’s agonized screams reverberating against Dwight’s chest cavity that made him whirl around so fast in shock and fear that he nearly body-slammed the woman to the ground. He felt a smaller hand grab onto his tie to turn with him, and her soft gasp was louder than his. “Jake!” She exclaimed, taking a few wobbly steps forwards towards the strange dangling red object in the distance that he had a feeling that he should  _ not  _ be able to see.

 

Before she got too far, however, Dwight reeled her back in with his arm still looped around her waist. “Woah- hey!” She swayed again and Dwight had to stoop down to make sure she didn’t fall. “You’re in no shape to be going anywhere!” The woman made a sound like a puppy who had their favorite toy taken away from them, but she stopped trying to run after the screams and allowed Dwight to help her sit against a tree.

 

Making her as comfortable as she could be, Dwight ripped off another small scrap of his office shirt and handed it to the woman, and  _ (awkwardly)  _ grabbed her good hand and placed the cloth in it while also giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I-I don’t know what else to give you but some more of my shirt.” He said, looking out into the distance to eye the red figure out in the distance that wiggled like it was struggling to wretch itself off something. “Look, you try to patch yourself up a little more- can you do that?”

 

She nodded, shakily reaching into her breast pocket and pulling out some leaves. “I forgot I ha-had these. They help with-with blood clotting.”

 

“Good!” Praising her findings, Dwight prepared himself to get up again, bouncing up on one knee. “You stay hidden and do...plant things, I’ll go get-”

 

“Jake. I’m sure that’s Jake.” She finished for him when he had forgotten what name she had said just a few moments earlier, but her smile lacks and agitation or malice towards his brain fart. “My name is Claudette, by the way.”

 

“Claudette?” Yep, definitely French. He gave her a little handshake while he has her hand before he places it into her lap and stands up fully. “Mine is Dwight.” He stands there for a moment after the introduction, not quite sure what he wants to say before settling on giving her a small wave and a final  _ “stay safe!”  _ as he took off towards the man named Jake.

 

Even as his chest was heaving and muscles were burning, Dwight didn’t stop until he was close enough to the red glowing form that he could made out the finer edges of the aura and the pounding started back up again. Coming to a complete stop, Dwight dived behind a bunch of boxes and grass  _ (where are all these boxes coming from!?)  _ to hide himself from the monster and to think of a plan. It should be easy, right? If he could get her- Claudette- down, he could get Jake down.

 

He waited for the heatbeat to fade away, but it never disappeared completely: Dwight would start to feel safe when the sound would become almost nonexistent and would get up to walk several yards closer before ducking down again in fear when it would sound louder and harder. Dwight eventually encroached close enough to see large, black claws descending around Jake while the man struggled to hold them back with his own hands, cries of pain mixed with grunts of effort while he fought for him life.

 

Watching the man’s strength slowly slip and allow the claws to come in closer and closer, Dwight crab-walked as close as he dared to approach to the hooked soul. The heartbeat would fade in and out of intensity as if whatever was the source of it was just patrolling beyond his field of vision. He wanted to wait until the heartbeat was gone completely, but Dwight had a feeling that that would not happen, that he couldn’t just  _ sit  _ and wait for it and hope the man was still alive when that happened.

 

Taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart, Dwight took one final look around and made a run for the man on the hook. “Hey, I got you, I got you-” Placing his hands in the exact same place he did for Claudette and using all the strength in his arms to lift the man up and off the hook, who fell against him with a cry of pain and stumbled face-first into his chest.

 

Dwight dug his heels into the dirt when Jake fell against him because  _ he was much heavier than Claudette  _ and nearly knocked him over from his dead weight alone. “Hey!” He tried to get his attention while wrapping an arm around his waist and dragging him off to one of his previous hiding spots and gingerly placing him down in the cover of dark grass and obscuring shadows.

 

“Hey.” He spoke softer thins time and with more urgency: the heartbeat was coming back and coming closer and Dwight didn’t know what to do now that he has a half-dead man in his arms. “I think- I think it’s coming back.” When the injured man’s eyes met his with a glazed over look, Dwight begrudgingly gave him a small slap in the face to bring him back to focus. “Stay here. You need to hide from it. I’ll…” Looking around, Dwight tried to find something to distract the incoming monster with, but found nothing… except himself. 

 

“I’ll distract him so he doesn’t notice you.” It would probably get him killed, but it was worth it if it meant Jake and Claudette could escape.  _ Ba-thumpba-thump- _

 

“What?” Jake was breathless and looked disoriented and confused at what he said for a moment, before gray eyes sharpened with awareness and understanding and narrowed at him in suspicion. “Do you know what’s going on?” His voice was strained and hoarse, clearly in pain but Dwight took notice of just how  _ together  _ he seemed despite having a gaping hole in his body. It made him both impressed and jealous.

 

“No, I’m trying to save your life!”  _ He didn’t have time to deal with this _ ! Giving Jake a small push to make him firmly planted his rear on the ground, Dwight darted out into the open, whipping around frantically for the monster as the heartbeat reached a fever pitch, driving him  _ mad  _ with how petrified it made him-

 

And ran straight into the beat himself, falling back on his ass and staring up at the monster in horror, the heartbeat overwhelming all other nature sounds around him. The beast loomed over him, fresh blood and gore running and glistening down his leathery skin and rubbery overalls that how stained Dwight’s skin and clothes as well.

 

The beast didn’t more for a few, earth-shattering moments that gave Dwight the opportunity to scramble backwards and back on his feet, darting back into the dark of the wilderness.

 

But there was no mistaking the low, inhuman growl that he heard as he ran for his life.  **_“Run!”_ ** So he did, running as far and as fast as he could away from the predator chasing behind him. No matter how fast he ran, he couldn’t seem to outrun the monster who was  _ walking  _ up to him like he was his pet dog on a leash that he was slowly reeling in.

 

He didn’t want to  _ think  _ about what would happen to him if he was caught, God help him.

 

Dwight scanned his eyes scanned around the environment, looking for  _ anything  _ to help him to get away, or to hide somewhere until the beast gives up- he saw a long series of walls with various openings in them, and Dwight took advantage of the opening and hopped through a hole. Feet landing soundly on the other side, the only thing Dwight could see that could be of use to him was a red and rusted locker tucked into a corner.

 

He had hidden and had been stuffed into many a kocker back in his school days so getting into this one almost felt natural to him. Closing the doors as quickly as he could with a soft  _ squeak!,  _ Dwight held his breath inside the metal container as the thrumming got closer and closer, the heavy sounds of footfalls coming right up to his locker…

 

_ And going right past it. _ His muscles tensed and ached from standing ramrod straight with his sweaty back against the metal interior as the giant shadow of the monster passed over him, and kept going around the brick walls. But he didn’t leave yet, the large shadow of the monster eclipsing his position at least twice more before he saw through the locker slots the giant stop and  _ sniff  _ the air before turning and walking away. The heartbeat slowly faded away into the distance, the natural sounds of forest and wildlife becoming predominant again but Dwight didn’t come out until he had counted past a full minute.

 

Legs shaking and threatening to give out on him, Dwight let the squeaky door close behind him as he exited, thankful that nobody was around to smell the faint scent of urine wafting from the locker. He doesn’t think he would be able to live it down if someone had pointed it out. 

 

_ But he had did it! _ He had evaded the monster… or they had purposefully let him go again; either way Dwight was thankful that he had escaped that chase alive. Wiping sweaty palms on his slacks before gnawing on a fingernail nervously, Dwight looked around trying to figure out what to do next since in the process of running from the behemoth he had totally lost his way and had no idea where Claudette or Jake were.

 

_ When in doubt, pick a random direction and start running. _

 

 

 

 


	7. No Place To Hide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Driven by her empathetic nature, Claudette makes a foolish decision.
> 
> Or, when you want bloodpoints but you're too slow. Get fucked, Karen.
> 
> short chapter because I run out of brain xd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also sorry this took a while! my friends pulled me into the world of m i n e c r a f t and it has taken over me last three brain cells.
> 
> thank u dmod for being my sugar papi and buying me minecraft

Claudette didn’t know what to be more shocked about: being hung up on a meat hook or finding out that there were  _ more  _ people here, and that person had just pulled her down from said hook, gave her some of his ripped clothing while leading her away before running back when Jake’s  _ horrible  _ scream echoed throughout the world.

 

Before she could be grateful that she had someone with her in these trying times, he was gone and she was left alone in the wilds of the darkness, shoulder gushing blood that was slowly abating with each passing second as she pressed the leaves against her open wounds. The dewy liquid of the leaves coated her wound in a collagen that helped to staunch her blood flow, but the hole won't close. Claudette knew she would need serious medical care and tending to if she ever wanted to properly use her shoulder again.

 

Hot tears rolled down her cheeks as an involuntary reaction to the pain that she wiped away with dirty hands. Sitting alone with nothing but her whirlwind thought and agony, Claudette tried to wrap her brain around all that was happening while pressing the ripped cloth against her mangled mess of a shoulder.  _ There must be something I can do,  _ she thought,  _ I don’t even know if staying here is safe! What if that… that  _ **_thing_ ** _ comes back?  _ Was she truly safe here? Anywhere?

 

Pulling herself up to her feet by the bark of the tree, Claudette blinked away burning tears and looked around with foggy lenses, looking out for something that could be of use to her… but only saw a dangling red form off in the distance that her mind instantly connected to Jake.

 

That man said he was going to go get him… but what if the monster got him? Worse yet, what if he was a bad guy? What if he was going to hurt Jake instead of help him? Deciding that she couldn’t let any of those scenarios happen, Claudette started running as fast as she could towards the red outline of Jake with full intentions of saving him.

 

Claudette ran what felt like forever: it didn’t look  _ that  _ far away but it took an eternity to get barely close enough to make out more of Jake’s red features… then it was gone. She came to a halt as her pain-laced mind grinded gears to make sense of the aura’s disappearance. Did that mean he was saved, or that he had died? She moved forward nor backwards while she thought through it, before her empathetic soul nudged her forward to at least  _ check  _ where Jake had been.

 

Pressing the bandages and leaves against her wounds harder, Claudette grinded her teeth against the hot lashes of pain that spiked when her feet hit the ground and picked up her pace, driven by her caring and kind nature to see if anybody needed help over there. The place where she had seen the aura became her single focus, allowing her to narrow in on the location with ease- barr the pounding sound that resurfaced briefly, giving her flashbacks to when she had heard the noise before the  _ thing  _ that hooked her showed up. She arrived at the place where Jake had been dangling, judging by the dark hook hanging above her, dripping with  _ blood.  _ But Jake, nor anybody else, was anywhere to be seen.

 

“Hello?” Calling out weakly in case they were nearby, Claudette swayed with the beginnings of blood loss and stumbled against a nearby tree, leaning her good shoulder against it and slumping down back to the ground. The botanist  _ knew  _ that this was a horrible place to pass out at, and that if she did she might not wake back up, but her legs would not obey her. Knees giving out underneath her, Claudette’s rear end collided with the dirt with a soft  _ thump  _ and her eyes started sliding shut, breathing slowing and grip on her bandages loosening-

 

_ No!  _ Mentally screaming at herself, the Canadian woman jerking herself awake; but it was in vain for her eyes slid shut again immediately afterwards this time without catching herself until a few seconds later. Or what felt like it: Claudette had a feeling that next time she opened her eyes that it was  _ much  _ later than what she thought it was.

 

A loud noise drew her out of her drowsiness that seemed to reverberate all around her, and Claudette looked around frantically for the source of the crackling noise that made her head throb even more. She saw nothing around her, but a movement above caught her eye. She couldn’t see what was going on above her very well, but there was…  _ something  _ far up in the sky, something that was retreating into the emptiness of the atmosphere.

 

It was with a startling realization that she noticed the forest disappearing around her, the sparkling ends of the vanishing trees glistening and flying away in glowing embers that stung her skin when they landed on exposed flesh. She stared upwards, mouth open in shock and gasps of pain as the trees burned further and further down until Claudette became acutely concerned that  _ she  _ may start disappearing with the trees- it stopped all at once, the claws evaporating as quickly as they appeared, restoring the forest when it left.

 

The botanist, usually very cynical and logic-minded, was left gob-smacked and speechless by what she had just witnessed. She remain where she was for a long while afterwards, unsure of what to make or what to do-

 

_ Ba-thump. _

 

_ “Oh no.”  _ Whispering to herself in fear, Claudette looked around desperately to locate the source of the noise, remembering what succeeded that noise. Crawling on her hands and knees awkwardly to spare her destroyed shoulder, Claudette tried to squeeze inbetween a dark, shadowy corner of trees and rocks, knees pressed to her chest and healthy arm cradling her maimed shoulder as she fought to hold back whimpers of pain as a pointy edge of a rock poked hard into exposed gore.

 

The noise got louder and louder, just as it did before and it scared the Canadian woman even more than she already was. Shaking hands pressed the bandage so hard against her wound that a fresh squirt of blood escaped through the space of her fingers, Claudette breathed heavily and uneven while  _ hard footsteps  _ overlapped the loud heartbeat noise. The footfalls had her legs quivering with its  _ unnerving presence _ , even with her limbs pressed firmly against her heaving chest.

 

Claudette bit her lip until she tasted blood. She  _ knew  _ that if she utter a sound and the monster heard her, she would be caught, and the adrenaline rushing through her veins absolutely  _ forbid  _ that from happening- but she could not stop the whimpers of pain that escaped through her bleeding lips, no matter how hard she bit down and tried to remain silent given that there was a branch poking in her hook hole.

 

Suddenly, a large shadow fell over her, and Claudette went absolutely still as the footsteps stopped and rancid hot air washed over her terrified form. 

 

Too scared to turn her gaze away, Claudette looked up to stare at the monster again, finding herself being looked back at by pinpricks carved out in a wooden mask with a hideous grin and sharp wooden teeth.

 

**_“Peekaboo!”_ ** The monster spoke, taking a stance over her to block any and all exits and raised his weapon, wet with blood that she had a fleeting feeling wasn’t from animals. Claudette’s voice broke into a short scream of  _ utter horror  _ before it was silenced with a murderous slice of the monster’s weapon across her neck and chest that threw her to the edge of life and death, her consciousness hanging by a thread while she drifted in and out of sensations.

 

She blinks, and finds herself being carried away, face towards the ground and dirt rushing like water as she moved faster than what her brain could comprehend. Claudette blinks again, and the world comes to a standstill as the only clear thing she could hear was the heartbeat sound in her head.

 

She blinks yet another time, and she's on the hook again. The metal pierces her shoulder and rips through muscle as it had did before, creating a larger and even worse injury than she was already sporting. Claudette screamed again, clutching her puncture wound in reflex as fresh, blinding hot pain raced through her system and lighted her nerves on fire. It pushed her to the brink of her sanity, of her brain capacity for tolerance for this level of pain and irrationally so much so that she failed to notice the same claws that she had spotted in the sky before forming lightning-quick around her, and descending upon her.

 

The largest leg of the claws came down upon her before she could reach up and try to grab it, going right through her stomach and spine. Claudette barely had time to gasp and not enough time to register the pain before another one pierced her from behind, going through her lower abdomen- and that was the last thing Claudette Morel knew of before all of her vital signs functioned in a single second and she was carried off into the sky the exact way Jake Park had been earlier.

 

_ Death is not an escape... _

 

 

 

 


	8. Dark Infinity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg is caught.
> 
> Meg being Meg. A bear trap for each leggie- magnet legs: or megnet legs. She's got Dumb Karen Disease.

“ _ Ow _ \- fuck fuck fuck!” Every brush of tall grass against her bear trap wound caused Meg to swear softly under her breath and clutch on whatever surface she was using to prop herself up with harder, surely digging a few splinters into her hands along the way. But Meg had no time to stop and pick them out, not with a monster hunting her and  _ others  _ down.

 

Her mind was still a mess, trying to decipher and ration away what she had witness when that man was placed onto a  _ hook  _ and carried off into the  _ sky.  _ How was that even possible?! Was it some sort of magic, or possibly aliens or some secret government shit? But she doubted the latter of those options would resort to using simple traps to main their victims _ (I am not a victim!).  _ Her contemplative rationalising only led to more confusions and questions, but stopping meant letting the insanity of it all fester and overwhelm her and Meg couldn’t let that happen to her.  

 

She  _ wouldn’t _ \- not when her mother was counting on her to return home to take care of her.

 

With dirty hands, Meg fumbled for her phone again to give it another chance to work properly and perhaps give her a real chance to escape… but alas, it still displayed wrong information, along with a big, red ERROR message across the screen. Huffing in defeat, Meg slipped the device back into the pocket on her waistband and pushed herself off from the tree, limping into the thick forest to find another one of those machines.

 

All the while, the man that she had witnessed die before her eyes kept replaying over and over again like on a repeating playlist that  _ would not stop-  _

 

Meg tried to squeeze her eyes shut to gain some peace and quiet, but it only made red splashes drip against the black backdrop of her eyelids so her eyes flew back opened and  _ stayed  _ open unless it was to involuntary blink away dryness. She was torn between calling out in hopes of finding someone friendly so that she could drive the  _ insanity  _ that was creeping up her neck or staying silent so the monster wouldn’t find her and… do what he did to that man to  _ her.  _

 

_ That’s not going to happen,  _ she told herself, hope blooming in her chest as she rounded a large rock and spotted a dormant machine. It was cold to the touch of her warm palms and Meg had an automatic instinct to kneel in front of it and start repairing it. 

 

**_I_ ** _ won’t let that happen _ . 

 

Resolution and determination gave her the strength to ignore the burning, throbbing pain of her wound as she leaned on her good knee and twisted her injured leg to the side to spare it painful pressure. Her fingers slipped inbetween greasy wires and gears and Megan allowed her newfound instincts to guide her-  _ why is this so easy?  _ Even though she had gotten pretty impressive grades in school, she was never really  _ into  _ engineering or machinery, so having inside knowledge on how to fix these machines really made her scratch her head and doubt her already threadbare sanity even more.

 

Despite her inexperience, Meg notices the pistons adorning the top of the machine start to pump and each one that starts up inflicts a small sense of pride into the athlete. As the third one just started to slowly move up and down, a noise that shakes her to her core starts.

 

_ Ba-thump. _

 

“No!” She hisses out, desperate to finish the job but at the same time unwilling to stick around that noise again, so Meg does the smart thing and bolts away from the half-started machine. Panic and relief simultaneously fills her as the heartbeat does not increase in intensity but nor does it cease entirely so Meg knows she still has to keep running.

 

Usually, Meg runs towards something, whether it be a lifelong goal, a victory, or running to jump over one of life’s hurdles that  _ dared  _ to get in her way- but today, for the first time in her life, Meg ran  _ away  _ from something.

 

For a few moments, Meg thought that the thing was not pursuing her since she twisted her head behind her and saw no foreboding shadow or looming figure following her, but she knew better than to trust that false sense of security. Branches crunched loudly under her running shoes and threatened to puncture the rubber of her soles, but Meg had no time to worry about aesthetics.

 

_ Speaking of aesthetics…  _ in the distance, shades of a different type of blue, whites and gray stood out from the stark dark blue and black of the neverending forest. Meg blinked away tears of pain and noticed that the different colors outlined a large square shape that quickly identified itself as a loosely held together shack of sorts.

 

It could be a place to hide or possibly the beast’s hideout, but Meg didn’t have much of a choice as the heartbeat started to slowly increase in volume driving her stress and adrenaline levels through the roof. Seeing no other options in hiding places, Meg made a beeline for the dilapidated structure that was slowly coming into focus and was looking less and less like a safehaven every yard she drew closer to it.

 

There was an opening in the form of a horribly cut window in the wall just in front of her, but as she got within a few yards of the structure, she could see that, through the opening in the wall, that there was another  horribly cut window on the right wall and a doorway sans the door on the left, and the wall across from her was void of any significant openings.

 

Meg had a brief thought of walking around and entering the shack through the door  _ (like a normal person),  _ but panic and urgency was overriding common sense, and Meg instead limped towards the opening in the wall before her, placing a hand on the windowsill to gently hoist herself up and over the ledge-

 

_ S N A P ! _

 

Her good leg landed sounding onto something that Meg recognized was  _ not floor  _ a second too late, and the now all too familiar agonizing sensation of a trap crunching her ankle sent Meg into near screaming convulsions of white hot pain. Meg fell forward and thru the rest of the window, falling roughly on her hands and knees and gathering splinters all the while trying to crawl away from the trap secured around her leg.

 

The heartbeat approaching matched the pace of her own racing pulse. She made a desperate and reflexive grab to the gruesome injury, trying to pry open the sharp jaws as she did before, but a red glow washed over her before she could attempt to escape.

 

With a shuddering gasp, Meg blinked up at the large and burly figure standing in the open frame of the crude window whose shoulders were so massive she couldn’t look past them to see the trees right outside. 

 

It was the monster that she had seen earlier kill that man, and an intrusive thought in her head said  _ he’s going to kill me too, just like how he killed that man.  _ Meg scrambled backwards with the trap dragging painfully across the floor that tore more muscles and ligaments to get away from the monster who had just hefted his massive form through the comparably small opening.

 

“Wh-wh-” Meg stuttered, her bravery and voice quickly disappearing with her chance of survival as she knew it. “What-what are you? What the  _ fuck  _ are you!”  _ If she was going to die, she deserved to know.  _

 

The leathery-looking monster with large metal spikes and barbs protruding from its skin did not respond at first through the razor-sharp gap in his wooden mask; rather he tilted his head to the side and looked her over as if she was a prime cut rib steak ready to be served at a Golden Corral. His oversized barrel chest was heaving with effort and excitement- Meg tried to  _ not  _ look at the large bulge inbetween his legs. The mask made it impossible to tell if he was look at her in  _ that way  _ or not, but another step forward from the monster had Megan whimpering in pain as she tried to get as far away as she could from him.

 

**“You should learn…”** She was actually surprised to hear him speak, even though she had asked him a question just moments ago.  **“...to** **_watch your step._ ** **”**

 

Lesson  _ fucking  _ learned.

 

Opening her mouth to swear some more, all thoughts of cursing out the monster were replaced with thoughts of  _ struggle  _ as the beast strided towards her in two large steps and grabbed her by her running outfit and hoisted her up with a single hand so that she was slung over his shoulder on her stomach.

 

Flashbacks to earlier brought to her attention that this is the position that than man was put in as he was carried off to that hook, and Meg mustered any strength she had in her to thrash and wiggle out of the beast’s grasp, ignoring the horrible pain in her legs and kicking at the creature’s chest. “Hey!” She yelled, beating at anything part of his body that she could. “Where are you taking me? Put me down, you large motherfucker!”

 

**_Wiggle, little worm. Wiggle!_ **

 

A jolt of her world made her teeth clatter, and Meg realized that they had dropped down to a lower level that she had not realized was there. Cold dampness rolled over her skin, banishing the warm summer air to the nether in an instant. “HEY!-” Meg thrashed as hard as she could when she saw the stairs the beast were climbing down, craning her neck to try and get a look at where they were going.

 

And that’s how she spotted the hooks, glistening from an unknown source of light, dripping with fresh and dried blood. The athlete was so shocked at the sight that she stopped wiggling all together and stared with her mouth open- until the beast stopped moving and hands wrapped around the small of her back and hoisted her up. 

 

**“May She bless you.”** Meg tried to grab ahold of the monster’s overalls in a last ditch attempt to anchor herself to him. “No, wait-”

 

The pain that she had felt with the traps were  _ nothing  _ in comparison to what she felt when she was  _ thrown  _ onto the metal hook that tore a literal hole in the soft flesh beneath her collarbone. Her world became nothing but the pain as her consciousness puttered out for a few moments to calm down her overworking pain receptors to sink beneath murky and dark waters, but when she resurfaced Meg craved to be gone and under again to be rid of the pain she felt.

 

_ “Ah…”  _ She moaned softly as she blinked, coughing to clear her airways of the blood she felt running past her lips and onto the floor beneath her form. Cracking her eyes open, Meg could see the beast standing partly on the stairs, watching her lifeforce drain from her.

 

**“How’s it…** **_hanging_ ** **?”** _ Did he just…  _ Even though her anguish, Meg knew when she was being taunted. Even though she would never give the monster the satisfaction of telling him, his terrible pun drove her to raise her arms up to garb at the hook currently suspending her mid-air.

 

“Ffff-fuck you!” Yelling out, Meg tried to wrench herself off the metal hook to no avail. She tried again, and failed yet again, and yet another time, and yet another attempt to escape the hook-

 

Suddenly,  _ claws  _ like she had seen take the man before descended upon her, startling her with a scream of fear as she stuck her hands out to grab it. But she was too late to grab or stop it, and she simply was too slow in her reaction to time to avoid the hard chitin claws from sinking into the soft flesh of her stomach and chest, puncturing all of her internal organs and spine and ribs and killing her in less than a handful of seconds.

 

But, oddly enough, she kept her consciousness long enough to know that she was being dragged upwards into the sky, like that man was before her, until her mind and vision fizzled into black nothingness.

  
  


_ Death is not an escape. _

 

 

 

 


	9. In The Mouth Of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Using his...wits, Dwight pulls off a daring escape.
> 
> Head On but way before it was even a thing. Take that Karen.

_ So, things were happening. _

 

He had no idea what all those loud and overwhelming creaking and noises were and what the sky turning black meant, but Dwight figured that it  _ couldn’t  _ be for a good reason. He couldn’t see what was going on up in the sky because of how dark and thick the trees where overhead, and he wasn’t about to go climb a tree or find a clearing to get a better look. 

 

He just kept running forward like a madman, not bothering to look at his surroundings or trying to remember where he was going which is probably why he hadn’t noticed he had been running in circles until the  _ extremely  _ faint scent of urine waft into his nostrils and he realized that he was back at the locker he had hopped into earlier.

 

_ God,  _ Dwight thought, smacking himself on the noggin with the thick part of his palm hard enough to sting,  _ I’m such an idiot- no wonder why I ended up here. I’m so stupid!  _ How was he ever going to get out of here if he just kept running in circles? 

 

Now with a sore forehead from hitting himself so hard, Dwight hopped back into the locker still smelling rank to collect his thoughts and his breath. Gripping the inside of the locker doors tightly, the office worker squeezed his eyes shut- and his ears as another scream rang throughout the forest:  _ it seemed as if people just loved to scream out here in the woods! _

 

Legs damp and shaking, Dwight swallowed compulsively to banish the bile rising in his throat as more screams sounded and rattled around in his metal container. His helpful nature compelled him to find the source of the agony and offer aid and assistance, but the selfish survival instinct just made him grip the inside of the locker tighter, locking his knees together and blinking back tears of stress and despair.

 

Those horrible growling and crackling noises started up again, and despite the overwhelming urge to cover his ears and cower away from it, Dwight didn’t dare let go of the doors incase  _ something  _ tried to pull him out of it. 

 

_ “Go away.”  _ Dwight whispered to himself, knuckles turning white and red from the flakes of rust and paint embedding into his fingers from his sweaty grip. The beating noise started up again and started to increase in intensity.  _ “Go away, go away go away-” _

 

The sound of squeaking rubber stopped Dwight’s brainless chattering cold, biting his lip until he tasted copper on his tongue and heavy footfalls rustled the grass right outside his locker. Dwight didn’t breathe, panic locking all of his muscles into place where he stood while heavy, animalistic breathing replaced his own. He was begging internally for the beast to simply keep going on, to pay his simple locker no mind and to leave him in peace so he could continue looking for a way out of this hellhole-

 

A dark shadow obscured any and all light that the moon had been providing through the slits of the shuttered windows, and Dwight’s eyes flew open to see a side view of the monster’s wooden mask through the small window. The monster tilted his head back slightly before inhaling deeply once, large shoulders moving up and down with the force of lungs expanding and contracting.

 

Dwight bit back a scream of pure terror as the mask turned to stare directly at the locker doors and a force that was far superior to his grabbed the locker doors and ripped them painfully out of Dwight’s hands, taking more paint and skin along with it that left his fingers burning in pain.

 

But that was the least of his concerns.

 

**_“BOY.”_ **

 

The cornered man  _ did  _ scream weakly at this point, drawing his scraped and bleeding hands to his chest to protect himself from the monster towering over him in a  _ very  _ threatening manner. Grabbing his chest as he started hyperventilating, Dwight squeezed his eyes shut again as the beast leaned in close to him, rancid and putrid breath washing over him and coaxing acid to bubble in the back of his throat while prayers of safety and freedom filled his mind.

 

**_“What did I say… boy?”_ **

 

A large fist pounded the metal next to Dwight’s head, rattling his brains hard enough that he nearly tipped over in dizziness while his eyes rolled around like marbles. Realizing that he couldn’t just keep his eyes shut and pray away the monster, Dwight slowly cracked his eyes open and looked up at the beast because there was  _ nothing else to look at.  _ Lips and throat working to form articulate words, Dwight took the appearance of a gasping fish before he managed to croak out:

 

“Don’t… ge-get caught?” The last word was a heavily emphasized question that Dwight already knew would spell his doom. Eyes wide and unblinking, the pale man didn’t bother to beg; if bullies from high schools had no ears to listen to his pleading, then this creature certainly wouldn’t. “I’m sorry?” As if he was a small child who had accidently knocked over a glass of water while playing, it was the only thing that Dwight could think of to do while his eyes darted around to look for a possible escape, but the monster took up nearly the entire space of the locker frame.

 

_ He had to do something! Think, Dwight-  _

 

**_“All of your friends are DEAD.”_ ** _ Friends, haha, he had friends now what else is new.  _ Dwight cast his eyes down so that his brain could stop melting from the amount of fear he was feeling- and then he saw a small, Dwight-sized opening between the monsters’ legs.

 

**_“And now…-”_ ** A large, metal blade came into view on Dwight’s left side, lifting higher and higher into the air, ready to come down and strike him at any given second.  _ This is it, I have one chance-  _ **_“-you will join them.”_ **

 

The weapon reached its zenith, and Dwight dove inbetween the behemoth's legs as the weapon clashed with the metal interior of the locker so hard Dwight felt hot sparks land along his back from the impact. 

 

**_“MEAT!”_ ** Dwight heard the monster roar above him, scrambling to his feet and throwing himself at the open hole in the wall to his immediate right with the enraged monster right behind him and hot on his tail.

 

Dwight managed to throw himself through the hole just in time as the monsters’ weapon struck the brick of the wall instead of him.  **_“Lucky.”_ ** And that wasn’t a compliment.

 

Landing on his hands and knees, Dwight crawled and pushed himself up off the dirt and took off at a dead sprint, running deeper and deeper into the darkness of the nighttime forest to escape the pursuing monster he  _ knew  _ was chasing after him. A quick look behind him confirmed his heart-pounding fear, and Dwight pushed himself as hard as he could, bouncing off of every tree and box he came across to give himself a small speed boost; anything that would help him to get away.

 

Quickly coming upon another brick wall structure, Dwight ran straight for it and dove through the opening in the wall the same way he did the other one, landing hard enough that his glasses flew off his face and scattered on the ground in front of him. Dwight was panicking so hard that he nearly forgot to place them back onto his face if it weren’t for the fact that he was blind without them and he would need them to see his impending doom stalking directly towards him at a high rate of speed. Shoving them horribly back onto his face, Dwight got up on his knees to take off running again when a different noise than the pounding or natural forest sounds caught his attention.

 

Looking around, he saw that there was a metal hatch of sorts to his right emerging from the dirt tucked behind part of the wall in front of him, top lid peeled all the way back and oozing black fog. Normally, that would scream  _ danger  _ to Dwight, but when there’s a literal monster within  _ feet  _ of him and  _ coming through the window _ , Dwight saw it as his only possible way out of here.

 

Half-crawling, half-running, Dwight scrabbled towards the opening and threw himself down it just as the monster had made his way through the window and was mere steps behind him with its weapon raised and poised to strike him. The air above Dwight whooshed as the weapon sliced through the air above him, but the hatch closed automatically as soon as he was fully inside of the hole, falling down and down for what seemed like forever until he landed onto hard ground with surprisingly gentleness in near total darkness, except for lit torches along walls that illuminated the way.

 

Laying on the ground for a few moments to collect his breath and wits, Dwight looked up and all around to make sure that the monster wasn’t above nor following him- and to look for a source of what sounded like  _ dark whispering  _ all around him. 

 

There was no one, except for himself. Despite the fear of being alone still persisting, Dwight breathed a sigh of relief that the monster was  _ gone _ , rubbing his sweaty, dirty and bloody hands onto his slacks to wipe away the nervous energy causing his hands to shake uncontrollably. Turning his four-eyed gaze to the tunnel in front of him, Dwight took a few steps forwards and attempted to pull a torch off a wall so he could see better, but found that there was no amount of tugging or pulling that would detach the torch from the wall so Dwight was stuck with carefully walking down a long, dark and dank-smelling tunnel that was poorly lit and was almost guaranteed to have a boss battle at the end of it.

 

“Oh, geez.” Speaking to himself, Dwight hurried along the tunnels that twisted and turned every which way imaginable in his search for  _ something _ . Panic started to fester inside of him again the longer the tunnels went on for that Dwight had to beat back with a mental stick.  _ I’m fine now,  _ Dwight told himself,  _ maybe this is victory for me. Maybe this tunnel leads out to the highway or back to my coworkers so I can get the hell out of here. _

 

And just as he thought that, he rounded a tunnel corner and came upon a wooden and ancient-looking door at the end of a short hallway, illuminated by numerous torches that instinctively filled Dwight with a sense of warmth and security and banishing the dark, whispering noises all around him.

 

He raced for the door and eagerly grabbed the doorknob and threw it open- only to be pushed up and forwards up a steep dirt mound as soon as he did so, and a gust of wind pushed the door shut behind him. Tripping over his own feet, Dwight landed face-first onto the dirt again _ (the many times he had this night making him look like a dirty mess, he’s sure) _ and smushed his glasses into his face. The sound of the door forcibly closing behind him startled him into twisting his body around to see what was happening, Dwight turning over onto his back to look at the now closed door.

 

Carefully getting to his feet, Dwight brushed the dirt off his shirt and stumbled back down the dirt mound to open the door again, only to find it locked tightly. Ramming it with his shoulder only got him another bruise, so Dwight accepted the fact that he was now officially locked outside and turned around to wander back into the forest-

 

But instead of more dark forest, there was a flickering light not too far ahead of where he currently was that brought more of that feeling of warmth and security back to him. Although everything about a random light in the forest was suspicious at best and dangerous at worst, Dwight started walking towards it with all haste until he came upon an open clearing with a blazing campfire; the source of the flickering light, he discovered.

 

Even though the campsite lacked basic necessities and… anything, really, Dwight discovered that there were several logs and places where he could sit down and catch his breath. Looking around one last time and seeing no monster or beast of any sort, Dwight grunted with effort as he lowered himself onto a log close to the fire and thought about how best to bandage his scratched up and bleeding han-

 

His hands were fine.  _ His hands were fine-  _ no, that can’t be, could it? Dwight  _ knew  _ for a fact that when that monster pulled the locker open that the skin on his hands were were cut because he  _ felt  _ the pain in them. His hands were just as they were before he came here; just a few work-related scars and nothing more. Quickly checking over himself, he discovered that he was perfectly fine, except for a few dirt spots and a tiny hole in his slacks.

 

There was no way, just  _ no fucking way- _ did all of that just happen? Was it even real at all!? Rubbing his hands together, Dwight felt the claws of a panic attack sink into his chest as he started hyperventaling for the upteenth time that night, sobs and tears escaping him as the emotions of the night's events caught up to him. Slipping off the log and onto the ground, Dwight buried his head inbetween his knees and grabbed onto him as he fought to control his emotions: he knew he couldn’t help it, but crying like a little girl wouldn’t help his situation any-

 

“Hello?” 

 

A soft voice, the softest he’s ever possibly heard almost went unheard caught Dwight’s attention, providing a much needed distraction from his rising panic. The voice had a soft French accent to it, one that Dwight recognized nearly instantly.

 

Forgetting his tears and picking his head up from inbetween his knees, Dwight turned around and locked gazes with the girl he had rescued from the hook, looking completely fine and dandy as if she had never been penetrated with a metal hook in the first place.

 

Honestly, if she didn’t look as scared as he felt, Dwight would’ve assumed that this whole thing was set up by her as some sort of sick game. But no, with the look of fear and trauma marred across her face, she was just as innocent in all of this as he was.

 

She pointed at him, mouth forming words of recognition before her face crumpled and she fell to the ground, sobbing loudly. Dwight had never been good with or called upon to offer any sort of comfort  _ (unless petting his cats counted) _ , so he simply sat on the ground for a few moments longer before working up the courage to slowly get up and walk over to where she was near the edge of the clearing, placing a gentle hand on her arm as a sign of comfort.

 

“Hey.” He gave her a soft squeeze and she brought her head up to look at him through wet eyes. “Are you alright? Did you make it out alright?” She didn’t respond verbally, but gave a barely perceptible shake of her head.

 

“N-No.” She sobbed, hiccuping once. “He c-caught me, and…” She trailed off, unable to complete her sentence, and suddenly, Dwight was being assaulted with a tight hug from a small woman who started crying into the crook of his shoulder. Awkwardly patting her back, Dwight allowed himself to be cried on for as long as she needed to, until her sobs faded away to hiccups and sniffling.

 

It didn’t look like they were going anywhere, so Dwight had all the time in the world to be somebody’s shoulder to cry on.

 

 

 


	10. Refuge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Survivors become the Campers as they all discover the eternal Campfire.
> 
> *sniffs* the gangs all here, Karen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: cool nows the time to finally heck pan out some spicy L O R E:
> 
> Devs: Yo check out the Archives and the Observer filled with racks and racks of L O R E
> 
> me now: I Will Write Very Open-Endedly BC Nothing Will Stop Me But My Thirst For L O R E

Claudette, being the scientific-minded woman that she was, had never really given a serious thought as what happens after one dies, especially not for herself. She knew the above-ground process: based on what the person’s final wishes or customs were, the body would be disposed of, usually embalmed and buried or perhaps simply cremated, not even taking in consideration a wake or memorial or funeral.

 

Her own death? Never really occurred to her or than a brief, anxiety-ridden morbid thought that had seeped through in a moment of panic. She was just 21, for goodness sake! She ate healthy, balanced her work and personal life well enough, and no real life-threatening illnesses ran in her family that would lead to an early death. She didn’t go out much and the college she attended was one of the safest in America.

 

But Claudette Morel had died, bloody and broken, strung up on a hook like a piece of meat for a butcher to cut into slices with other-worldly claws piercing her and severing all vital function to her brain in a flurry of pain and suffering that the botanist couldn’t even register before her life was gone was gone from her blackened corpse.

 

That was the last thing she remembered until she was slowly brought back together, bit by bit, as if slowly waking up from a dreamless sleep. First was her awareness that came back, then the darkness of her inner eyelids registered as a color within her senses- then she heard the soft groaning of  _ something  _ that she couldn’t crack open her eyes to see- and the oddest and  _ disturbing  _ feeling of being pushed back together like condensing smoke-

 

And then she was awake and fully  _ aware  _ of everything: of the warm ground underneath her back and palms, the glasses sitting delicately on her face, of the hair tie keeping her hair back and out of her field of view. Memories of agony and death were fuzzy at first while Claudette struggled to make sense of all that was happening to her, but the soon pressed to the forefront of her mind, making her sit upright so fast her head spun.

 

That… thing!  _ Where was it?  _ Getting to her knees quick as a flash, Claudette frantically started looking around to see if the monster was lurking nearby. There was nothing moving around her except for a stray crow that startled at her sudden movements and flew off into the dark sky that caused her to instinctively duck and cover her head before realizing that she was in no danger.

 

After it was gone, Claudette remained in her crouched position until she had counted to at least ten and the forest had gone quiet around her yet again. No pounding or heartbeat noises, no heavy breathing or footsteps or screaming, no Jake or Dwight… she truly felt alone. She couldn’t decide if that was better or worse in this situation, anxiety reaching new heights as she struggled to comprehend what was going on.

 

Standing up fully on unsteady legs, Claudette reached for her phone in her pocket to call somebody,  _ anybody _ \- only to discover that she had absolutely no signal. Slipping the device back into her back pocket, the Canadian looked around for anything that could possibly help her out in her desperate situation and to quell her increasing anxiety. The only thing that caught her attention was a distant but radiating light off to her right that flickered inbetween the tree trunks.

 

Her heart lurched with hope when she recognized the lightsource as a fire, and Claudette speedily made her way towards it despite the red flags going off about  _ everything _ .  _ What if the beast was there, waiting for her? What if it just meant more pain and torment for her? What if, what if, what if-? _

 

She didn’t care, as long as she could get there and be safe for a few moments to think and collect her thoughts. Branches and twigs whipping at her body, Claudette rushed towards the nearing flame that called to her with warmth and security with all eagerness, nearly tripping a few times over tree roots and exposed rocks-

 

Reaching the open clearing surrounding the fire, Claudette came to a skidding stop as she realized two things: this looked like a very barren campsite, and that Dwight man was huddled against a log.

 

“Hello?” She spoke before she had realized she had even spoken, but her voice was soft even for her and was wracked with emotions that she hadn’t realized she had been holding back. Lips parted again to state the fact that she  _ knows him _ , that he had saved her from a hook earlier before she… she…

 

All of the memories that she begun to consider a horrible, horrible nightmare suddenly slammed into the forefront of her consciousness along with the knowledge that it had  _ really happened _ , all of it had really happened. Knocking her over like a tidal wave, Claudette simultaneously fell to her knees and started to cry uncontrollably.

 

He-Dwight-asked her if she had made it, and she responded with the truth, which only made the memories more real and painful, giving her more waves of emotions that battered her soul and made her cry harder. She kept crying, even as Dwight let her sob grossly onto his shoulder until her tears ran out and her snot started to seriously compromise her breathing abilities and she decided she’d rather breath than drown in her own mucus.

 

Evidently, Dwight was paying attention to her emotional state  _ (probably because he didn’t want a crying girl clinging to him-which was understandable) _ , and pushed her back softly when her cries had faded away to soft whimpering. “Hey.” His voice was wavering with temporary confidence but was still strong with comfort. “It’s okay. Look- did you notice you’re physically alright?” Dwight’s voice sparked Claudette’s rational mind, and a quick look and feel over of her body told her that he was right: she wasn’t hurt at all despite all that had transpired.

 

“I’m not… hurt.” She was alright psychically, but mentally was a whole other story. “Did all of that happened?” She asked Dwight breathlessly, looking at her unblemished palms with curiosity.

 

Dwight was still struggling to understand everything as well, but he knew they couldn't just sit in the dirt and play 21 Questions while the world burned around them, so he got to his feet first and offered Claudette a lift up, which she graciously accepted. "As much as I hope it didn't, I think it did. Here, let's sit down on these logs and… think." He chuckled awkwardly at his horrible choice of words, but it seems that Claudette did not find it repulsive and let Dwight lead her to a log close to the fire. They sat side by side, Dwight’s arm wrapped around Claudette’s shoulders as they both gathered their wits about them until Claudette broke the silence with a soft sigh.

 

“Thanks for… saving me from the monster. Ev-even though it didn’t matter in the end.” Her arms came up to rub at her upper arms as if she was cold, but Dwight could feel that she was still warm and shaky from obvious trauma. 

 

“You’re welcome.” He responded with an automatic smile on his face. It might’ve been the worst thing to do, but Dwight smiled because he was  _ proud  _ that someone honestly  _ thanked  _ him for doing something for them. “Can I-” He trailed off, looking away for a moment to debate asking his question. “-can I ask what happened to you?” A sudden hiccup from the woman made Dwight immediately backtrack. “If- if it’s not too much for you! I understand if it’s too-”

 

“ _ Non, non _ , it’s alright. It would be better to talk.” Claudette didn’t pick up her head from where it had fallen to her chest as she spoke until she had completed her sentence and inhaled, filling her lungs with the courage to recount her adventures. “After you saved me, he-he found me again and-”   
  


A sudden rustling to their left startled them out of their conversation, and they both whipped around and waited with bated breath as a darker figure approached them through the overgrown foliage surrounding the campsite at a high rate of speed.

 

A pregnant pause later, and the wide-eyed face of Jake Park poked through the bushes before stumbling into the clearing with the grace of a newborn gazelle- that is, he fell to his hands and knees and got a mouthful of dust and dirt with his rough landing.

 

Dwight could see the terror and fear in his eyes as clear as day, but the man recovered as quickly as Dwight had ever seen someone, going from looking like a frightened puppy to a more hardened and neutral look as his eyes locked onto him first, and then panned over to Claudette. The woman in question was shocked, mouth hanging open and eyes unblinking as she processed mentally just  _ who  _ had fallen into their presence.

 

“Jake?” The Canadian whispered, getting to her feet and taking slow steps towards the male on the ground. “Jake!” She said, louder this time, and picking up her pace to kneel beside Jake and wrapped her arms around his torso in a tight hug, tears of relief dampening her eyelashes.

 

Jake tensed as he was hugged: he wasn’t used to physical contact aside from his mother, but after all that he had been through, a hug was welcomed at this point and he hugged her back for a while, tightly as if they were old friends who hadn't just met an hour ago.  _ For such a small woman, she could squeeze him hard enough to crunch his ribs- _

 

She pulls back after she’s had her fill of impairing Jake’s ability to breathe, and leans back to place her hands on his face, checking for any signs of cuts and bruises. “Are you okay?” She babbles, flashes of Jake being carried off like a sack of potatoes replaying in her mind and causing her further distress. “I saw you get taken! Did you manage to escape?” Dwight was over by him then, helping Jake to his feet and trying to get him to come sit by them in order to get him more comfortable, even though Jake was eyeing all of them in suspicion.

 

Taken aback at the sudden question, it took Jake a few moments to think of a response to Claudette’s question while simultaneously trying to get Dwight to loosen his grip on his upper arms. “I-” Seeing how distressed Claudette was over his condition, he thought of honesty  _ lying  _ to her and telling her that he made it out alright and not…

 

“I didn’t.” The words left a bitter taste all along his tongue, but he swallowed it down and let Claudette and Dwight sit him on the ground while they both took a seat on a log in front of them. “He found me again after Dwight… got me down. Then he put me back on one of those _hooks._ ” Jake visibly shuddered at the end, gloved hands coming together inbetween his crossed legs at the phantom feeling of the tip of the hook penetrating his shoulder.

 

Claudette looked visibly downtrodden by Jake’s admission, lowering her head to stare at a spot on her jeans before responding. “It is alright. I didn’t make it either.”

 

“Wait-  _ “didn’t make it?” _ As in, what, died?” Dwight asked incredulously. It was impossible that someone who  _ died  _ could come back to life, wasn’t it? 

 

Until Claudette and Jake both nodded their heads. “It felt like it.” Jake muttered, and Dwight could feel waves of irritation wafting from the other male. Claudette piped up again, voice soft and on the verge of crying again “After I was put on the hook again, these… these, uh,  _ claws  _ came down and… a-and-”

 

“Hey.” Jake leaned forward and briefly gave Claudette’s knee a pat and squeeze of reassurance when he saw that tears had leaked down her cheeks again. “Don’t make yourself anymore upset. It’s not good for you-” He was interrupted with his little pep  _ (wow, interrupting people is popular right now, huh?)  _ by yet again another figure stumbling out of the woods, but this time that person wasn’t as quiet or subdued as Jake was.

 

“Oh my God!” It was a young woman with red hair tied tightly into long braids that whipped about her arms and face as she almost fell onto her hands and knees but catching herself at the last second. Her face was as red as her braids, and her chest was heaving as if she had just completed a marathon with seat pouring down her face to boot. “You guys-!” When her eyes lands on the three near the campfire, Meg has a temporary brain fart: were these people friendly or where they hunting her, too? But panic beat out any paranoia she might’ve had, and she sprinted over to where the people were to get answers to her many questions.

 

“What- did you guys see what just- can you help me? Please, I don’t know what’s going on-” The man on the ground got to his feet in front of Meg, putting his hands up at her chest level but not quite touching her.

 

“Hey! You need to calm down, okay? Nothing is going to get figured out if we all start freaking out-”

 

“FREAKING OUT?” At this point, Meg was, officially,  _ freaking the fuck out. _ Her hands shot out to grab at the scarf around his neck and surely snagging a few of his dark locks in the process. “Hell  _ fucking  _ yes I’m freaking out! I don’t know where the fuck you’ve been, but _ I’ve _ been chased by a literal  _ monster _ , caught in  _ two  _ leg traps, and then I was taken to some creepy dungeon place straight out of a  _ horror movie  _ and I’m  _ pretty sure _ I was strung up on a hook and  _ died _ ! I remember dying; it was not fun!” By now, Meg’s hands had slowly crept up to the top of Jake’s collar and was essentially choking him, his eyes widening and reflecting that he did not like that  _ one bit _ . “AND YOU’RE TELLING ME TO NOT FREAK THE FUCK OUT?!-”

 

_ “-Because he might still be here!”  _ Jake finally interrupted her tirade with a urging hiss, grabbing her hands and forcibly removing them from his person and holding them inbetween the two. “Stop screaming or God knows what you’ll attract here!” What surprised Meg the most was how the man didn’t sound angry nor did he really raise his voice to her. It was more frightening than being yelled at, and it was the dousing of cold water that Meg needed to cool off her palpable anger and confusion.

 

“Oh.” Meg shrunk, feeling small and stupid at how loud she was being and that she could be bringing more danger to them all. But her moment of humbleness didn’t last long; standing up straight, she took her hands back and looked over everyone around her. “Well, do you guys know what’s going on here?”

 

Everybody shook their heads at her, lack of answers only giving Meg a reason to pout. “If-if it is any consolation to you-” Claudette finally spoke up, soft French accent floating along the air. “-I died, too. And I think Jake-” She point at Jake, who’s jaw visibly tensed at the words to come. “-died as well. You’re-you’re not alone in this.”

 

Her words were a minimal comfort to everybody, but a comfort nonetheless. Standing up half-way, Claudette reached over to grab a close hand of Meg’s, and pulled her down to sit next to her on the cramped log, shifting over to make room while cramping Dwight at the other end. 

 

Meg allowed her to, even though she felt the itch in her legs to take off running again like she had been before all of this crazy mess happened. A new voice startled her out of her thoughts “Now that everyone’s calm and settled-” Dwight sat up straighter and cleared his throat with a fist to his lips. “-I think we should start at Step 1. My name is Dwight, Dwight Fairfield.”

 

A soft smile came to the Canadian’s face. “Claudette Morel.”

 

Jake seemed both slightly irked and amused at their little socializing party “I’m Jake Park. it’s not too hard to remember.”

 

Stretching her legs out, the athlete sighed before responding “Megan Thomas, but just Meg, please.”

 

Dwight clapped his hands together once everyone had introduced themselves, shifting on his log seat and pushing his glasses further up his nose. “Great! We can call each other by our names and not just point at each other like apes, haha. Haaa….”

 

The most awkward pause to ever exist carried over for far too long before Dwight realized that everyone was staring at him and dropping his confidence and self-esteem levels to near record-low levels. He cleared his throat again and tried to save face “So, ummm, I guess I’ll start with my story with how I got here and… everything else...”

 

_ Everybody was still staring at him! Say something decent, Dwight!  _ “So, uhhh, I work as an office worker- actually, it’s more of a store/office thing, but it’s not too important. And last night...ish, my boss invited me and all of my co-workers out to this “team-bonding exercise” that’s really just an excuse so they could all get drunk and have affairs…”

 

 

 


	11. Spies From The Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Survivors, Killers and The Entity aren't the only things that inhabit the Realm...
> 
> A brief intermission, by Karen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jek Approved L O R E
> 
> in other news im so hyped for the Archives but im super impatient and had already written half of this out so here ya go

Unbeknownst to those poor, sad souls huddled around the flames of the campfire, there were two hooded and darkly cloaked figures watching them from a distance that only highly trained eyes would able to stop them if one knew what to look for in the first place. They both sat upon a large, fallen tree while one wrote in a large, leather-bound book and the other one kept watch.

 

The smaller cloaked figure spoke up first: "My money's on the Tarzan-looking dude."

 

The larger form of the two paused briefly in their writing to hiss at the smaller form "Shhhh! Would you please be quiet for a bloody minute?" Replying with a tone that lacked any real agitation, the bigger form quickly went back to writing down in their notebook, hood-covered head looking up at the campfire residents and down at their notes.

 

They continued on for a few more moments before their pencil stopped writing. "...on what?" They asked, mostly to sate their own curiosity.

 

"Lastin' the longest. Wasn't he the guy living out in the woods in the first place? He got this shit on lock."

 

"I…" For a moment, the larger form seemed reluctant to respond or perhaps without an answer at all. "...agree with that. But if there's anything you should've learned from me by now, it's that Survivors often surprise you by how long they may or may not last."

 

The smaller one cackled out loud before replying "And you should've learned from me by now that you should listen to me more often."

 

The other replied with a short chuckle of their own. "I've also realized you've given me much more gray hair than what I had before you became my apprentice."

 

The smaller called louder this time, making a fist and lightly punching the larger one in the shoulder. "Can't say you weren't warned." If they heard them, they did not verbally respond, but continued to jot down notes in their notebook that pertained to the four people hanging close to the flames. There was nothing but the sound of nature that would disturb the two, and the smaller form leaned over their shoulder to watch them write, unconsciously peering in closer and closer, a looming shadow starting to loom behind the pair that suppressed any and all other shadows and light around them-

 

The other form’s head snapped up, eyes underneath the hood going unnoticeably wide. "You're doing it again." They spoke with a tone of a firm reminder, pausing in their writing to point at the shadow that was curling over them- emanating from the other. It retreated as soon as realization dawned on the other's face and they went back to sitting upright.

 

"Ooh- sorry, sorry.” They apologized, and leaned back into their previous position, taking their shadowy looming presence with them as they both fell back into silence. After writing down a few more lines of notes, the larger form closed their notebook and stood up, offering their hand to the smaller form so they could stand up as well. “We are done for today.” They said, picking up a lone satchel that was beside them on the ground and stuffing their notebook and pencil inside.

 

“Oh, wow, really?” The smaller form responded, looking around in surprise. “That was fast.”

 

“This was just to gather observational information; we can get much more knowledge about these new Campers in The Archives. Can you tell me what date it is?” 

 

The smaller form reached into their robes and pulled out a smartphone. “May 31st, 2016. You just makin’ sure?” They asked, pocketing the device after turning the screen off.

 

The other hummed in agreement while giving the people at the Campfire one last look before holding his arm out to the smaller hooded figure, a silent que to follow them. As they turned to walk away, the smaller form tucked their hood down securely over their heads as they gave one last look to the people sitting around the flames. “It sucks that we can’t just… save ‘em, ya know? Most Survivors don’t deserve this fate.”

 

“It’s sad, yes. But they can save themselves if they make the right choices and dedicate themselves to the right topics. But, then again, not everyone  _ can  _ save themselves.”

 

The smaller form sighed in resignation, but turned away from the Campfire. “We can’t even give them… a little nudge in the right direction?”

 

The larger form shook their cloaked head. “Only at certain times we can. The Entity and the Fog and very fickle things. Our good intentions may end up in  _ bad hands _ if not timed properly. I know that you remember all that I’ve told you about inter-dimensional time differences and the Duplicates Effects...”

 

Their voices faded out as they walked further and further away from any lifeforms that could possibly hear them, and the dark forms both vanished into the dark Mist in an instant.

 

 

 


	12. Disorientation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The four Survivors gather their wits about them enough to explain how they arrived. Some things don't add up.
> 
> Lobby sim 2k16 Karen

“...anyways, I drank too much and I passed out. I woke up, and I saw that everyone was gone and that it was early morning. Or maybe late evening. I don’t know, but there was this heavy fog everywhere and I could barely see ten feet in front of me, and I just started to panic because there was nobody around and I didn’t know where everyone went...and then the  _ monster  _ showed up.”

 

Dwight started wringing his hands in nervousness, remembering the kiss that the monster had given him and chose to blot that memory of out the book of life. “I actually  _ talked  _ to him, believe it or not, and- well, a-actually, he did most of the talking, but- but he told me he would give me one chance to escape.”

 

“Why did he give  _ you  _ a chance to escape?” Jake interrupted, cutting Dwight a suspicious gaze that the office worker knew was well deserved. “I know I didn’t get a  _ fucking chance-” _

 

“I don’t know, either, okay!? The pale man exclaims, voice laced with exasperation and throwing his hands down into his lap. “I was so scared I didn’t ask him why he apparently  _ likes  _ me. He didn’t just roll out the red carpet and let me escape, either! He chased me down and I nearly lost several fingers in-”

 

“You escaped?” Claudette interrupted, her eyes wide and questioning. 

 

Swallowing, Dwight nodded his head and wrung his hands together. “Yeah, there was this little… hole in the ground I jumped in and I ended up in these dark tunnels and there was this door at the end of it that I went through and ended up here. Aaaaand that’s about it.” 

 

Everyone was silent for a moment, before a soft hand was placed on Dwight’s bicep. “Thank you, Dwight. Anything you can share with us can help us.”

 

“Help us?” Meg asked, pulling her knees up so that her legs were bent in a folded beachchair position. “What, do you think we’re going to be doing  _ all of that  _ again?”

 

“I don’t know, Mega- Meg.” Correcting herself, Claudette felt herself starting to shrink away from all the attention placed on her, social-anxiety rearing its ugly head to kick her in the butt. “We need to be prepared for anything.”

 

“Oh, I’m fuckin’ prepared, alright. Next time I see that massive mountain of bullshit, I’m going to kick him in the ass so hard my foot makes his bust a fat nu-”

 

“OKAY!” Dwight clapped his hands together, face as red as a tomato when he put two and two together and realised just where Meg was going with her little rant and that was creating  _ bad  _ mental images.  “Okay, Claudette, I think it’s your turn to tell your story.” He heard Meg grumble the rest of her threat under her breath, but Dwight didn’t dare to ask her to speak up.

 

“O-oh, um-umm…” Caught off guard by the sudden request, Claudette’s vision slipped back down towards her feet, social anxiety reaching a brief fever pitch before a few calm breaths help to bring it back to a simmer.

 

“Well, it was a nor-normal day for me; I was coming back from a small study break at-at a little cafe, and I was taking the bus back to my dorm room-”

 

“You go to college? Where?” Meg asked, clearly too excited to restain her questioning even though Dwight tried to shush her to let Claudette continue on. 

 

“I go to, uh,  _ University of Notre Dame du Lac _ . It’s in Indiana.”

 

Meg’s eyebrows raised. “Oooh- Sounds fancy. You sound French, too. You from France or something?”

 

“Montreal, Canada, actually. But, as I was saying- I was on the bus ride back to my dorm when I decided to get off at a bus stop to gather some plants for, uh, my personal collection-”

 

“So, like, weed?” Dwight balked at the question and the soft sound of Jake’s chuckling echoed.

 

Claudette looked startled for a moment, but soon her wide eyes soften into crinkles of amusement, waving a dismissive hand at Meg. “No, I have no need for things like that. But I had looked in that area before, so I don’t quite understand how I got lost. Things were going fine and I was just starting to-to head back when this heavy and dense fog just came out of nowhere and...and… I don’t know, I just got extremely lost and confused even though I had been there plenty of times. Then I found Jake asleep- which, forgive me asking, but why were you asleep in the middle of the forest?”

 

All eyes and attention switched to Jake, whose face has lost its olive color and had taken on the appearance of a ghost. “I...think that you should finish up first. And Meg.” His voice was unwaveringly steady, despite how his pallor still remained. 

 

“Why, did you, like, scream like a little girl or something?” Meg really couldn’t stay quiet, could she? “Because that’s not something to be embarrassed about when we’re  _ literally  _ being chased by giant monsters and shit.”

 

Jake cut her a sideglare that lacked malice but was full of levity. “It was more than just  _ fog  _ that got me.”

 

Meg clicked her tongue, sitting more upright to look more directly at the man sitting on the ground. “Listen, we all got got, you don’t have to brag about it-”   
  


“Can you guys let Claudette finish, please? She’s having enough trouble as she is!” Dwight was correct: Claudette was looking more and more like a trembling leaf the longer the two went on and on. “It- it is fine, Dwight, I was almost done. I was just saying that I found Jake, and together we found a generator of sorts that we had just managed to turn on when…” Claudette’s voice faded out, an abrupt signal that she had finished her story. It didn’t need to be spoken to be know that she hadn’t made it out. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Jake’s voice gave everyone a start. “I stood there like a dumbass while you got hurt instead of trying to help.” It was clear to Claudette that Jake was taking that statement to heart, so she reached out and gave his knee a soft pat. Jake’s not used to human psychical contact, but Claudette giving him a soft pat is so gentle he can’t be upset with being touched. “It’s alright: I know I would’ve been too scared to move if it had been me.”

 

“Alright, you two lovebirds.” Meg loudly interrupted, kicking out her legs to create noise. “It’s my turn to speak since Jakey here is being a pussy.”

 

Jake rolled his eyes with a lit of being insulted.“We all know you’re  _ dying  _ to speak, Meg-”

 

“Damn right I am, now quit interrupting me! I was going on my routine run through the Tombigbee National Forest-”

 

“Tom what now?” Dwight asked, pushing up his glasses with a fingertip to show just how befuddled he was at hearing that name.

 

“ _ Tom-big-bee”  _ Meg slowly enouncinated “It’s the national forest around here, duh.”

 

“I- I think we’ve missed a huge red flag here.” Claudette stood up, brushing off the front of her button shirt and looking around at everyone. “I live in Indiana. As in, the forest I got lost in was right outside the city of my university. And Jake- where did you say you thought you were when I first met you?”

 

“The Appalachian Trail.” Realization started to dawn in Jake’s eyes, causing him to sit more upright as the gears in his head whirled. “That’s in western Virginia.”

 

“Y’all are crazy or whacked- that can’t be.” The athletic woman tried to deny what the two had revealed, but her denial was turned up on its head when Dwight spoke up.

 

“I live in Illinois.” Dwight’s fingers found his way to his teeth, gnawing his nails to the quick as anxiety over the unexplainable situation rose with his heart rate. “I mean, someone or something might have carried me off to wherever you guys were while I was passed out-”

 

“I live in Mississippi, Dwight. I don’t think that someone  _ or  _ something carried all of us off from 4 different states across America to  _ this  _ place. And me and Claudette were wide awake when all of this happened, and I think I would’ve remembered being kidnapped.”

 

“Finish telling your story, then.” Jake interrupted. “How did you get here?”

 

Meg huffed, but continued “Like I was sayin’ before, I was on my usual running route when I thought to myself that I’d like to take an extra long run today to get my mind off of things, and somehow I got lost in, like, a few seconds. I tried to use the GPS and emergency call on my phone and everything and nothing worked. And then I really knew I wasn’t were I was supposed to be when I stepped in a fucking bear-trap-thingy that I nearly lost my fucking ankle to.”

 

“And that’s another thing.” Claudette said, sitting down again and twiddling her thumbs. “We all, except for Dwight, were mai-maimed in some fashion or another, yet we are completely fine. How can that be?”

 

The open ended question went unanswered. Meg slumped back down and humphed, crossing her arms beneath her breasts and looked into the fire, a frown present on her face. Claudette chose to rub her jean-covered thighs with her palms to release some friction, and Jake rubbed at his face after taking off his gloves and shoving them into one of his many pockets.

 

Dwight took his fingers back out of his mouth and laughed nervously. “Haha, so I guess we’re from all over the country, right? Next thing we’ll figure out is that we're from different years and…” The look the others had suddenly started giving Dwight made his laughter putter off. “...stuff.”

 

Nobody said a word for a minute.

 

“It’s… almost the end of August.” Jake whispered. “2015”

 

“Haha, that’s funny Jake.” If Meg didn’t have a look of worry across her face, jake would’ve thought she was  _ actually  _ laughing at him. “We all know it’s 2016, right guys?”

 

Claudette slowly shook her head. “It’s the 12th of September, 2014.” The red-haired woman’s mouth opened in shock, and they all turned to look at Dwight, who had put his fingers back into his mouth again but took them back out when he saw everybody starting at him in expectation.

 

The office worker frowned, pressing his chapped lips together and hesitated to speak. “It’s…” His voice trailed off as if he wasn’t going to finish, but then his voice came back several octaves higher than before. “...2005?”

 

“Please!” Meg cried out, grabbing Dwight by his tie and giving him a shake. “Please- at least tell me you meant 2015!?”

 

Dwight, very cleary scared at being grabbed so violently, shook his head like a wet rat. Meg didn’t take than answer well: as in, not at all.

 

“Are you serious? Are you fucking serious, oh my God- this can’t be real. Either this can’t be real, or all of you are lying about everything.”

 

“I’m not lying.” Calmly replying, the Canadian woman reaching into her back pocket and pulled out a slim wallet. "See here." Opening it, it took her just a moment to pull her Student ID out of her cardholder, holding it up for all of them to see that it was almost brand-new and with the issue date for the school year of 2014-2015, and also showed Meg her previous years’ cards when she demanded more proof.

 

“Can I see?” Dwight asked, curious to see Claudette’s cards for himself and noticing that they looked much more… modern than his old Drivers’ License from 1999 that Meg also demanded to see when she caught of wind of its existence.

 

“Ew, gross.” Meg commented when she held Dwight’s pizza-greasy Drivers’ License in her hand. “This is old and…” She took a whiff. “...smells bad. Did you drop it in a vat of grease?”

 

“I, uh, actually did once.” Dwight fidgeted with his glasses. “I had- well, still have- a part-time job as a pizza deliverer.”

 

"Oh my God." Meg groaned again, flopping in her seat in defeat. "This is just… way too fucking much for me right now." Pressing her fingertips to her temples, she slid down off her log and onto the ground before moving to lay on her back. “I’m exhausted and going to take a nap. Wake me up when  _ yawn  _ y’all figure something out.” 

 

“Meg.” Dwight whined, but the woman in question did not stir an inch. Slumping his shoulders, Dwight shook his head and slid off his own log to sit on the ground and lean back as a sudden wave of tiredness overtook him as it evidently did for Meg. “I’m… really tired, too. I think we all need to rest.”

 

“But- but what if the monster finds us?” Claudette asked, the exhaustion in her voice palpable but she fought it long enough to question their choices. Rubbing her eyes, the Canadian tried to fight off the sleepiness by standing up to walk around, but found that she swayed and her world pitched, and only by Jake leaning over to steady her did she remain upright. “Oh.” She moaned, stumbling back to her spot in front of the log. “Why am I so tired all of a sudden?”

 

“It’s… not good.” To Claudette’s eyes, Jake looked the least tired of them all, but he was just a few seconds from passing out as well. “Go to sleep; I’ll keep watch.”

 

“Pffft” Her eyes started to close with her consciousness slowing down. “You’re sleepy, too.” Blackness speckled at the edges of her vision, drowsiness making her limbs far too heavy to pick up. “Mmmm- you never told your story, Jake.”

 

“Later.” Jake murmured, sprawling out on the ground to  _ “keep watch” _ . He received no answer but the soft breathing of everyone else around him only lulled him to sleep faster, all of them ignorant of the dense and heavy Fog encroaching from every angle, covering them all in blankets of choking vapors and keeping them asleep until it retreated and revealed a new layout of forest, devoid of a campfire.

 

 

 


	13. Second Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without any preparation, the group is once again put into another Trail.
> 
> Or the true Rank 20 Karen Experiences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hell ya im gay
> 
> i like writing trial scenes but they end up getting so detailed and repetitive so i think ill try and keep them shorter and less intense.... unless yknow it shows plot development

**_SHELTER WOODS - MACMILLAN ESTATE_ **

 

Jake had never woken up to the immediate feeling of  _ nauseousness  _ threatening to make him spill whatever he had last eaten- usually sleeping off a bad meal or illness was a cure-all. But this time, the bitter taste of acid lingered at the back of his throat like heartburn after eating a spicy burrito.

 

Groaning in discomfort, Jake shifted his shoulders to shake the stiffness out of them as his senses came back. The dampness of the air mixed with the bitter taste in his mouth unpleasantly and Jake stuck his tongue out to banish the taste from his mouth. It didn’t really work, but it did make his jaw pop loudly enough to startle himself into a soft panic.

 

Twisting his upper body around, the woodsman’s heart raced as the memories of the gathering at the Campfire emerged from the fog of his brain and branded itself front and center in the front of his consciousness. There was nothing around him other than large trees and a few small gatherings of various upright and overturned boxes and wood in seemingly sporadic piles. 

 

And a generator, sitting inside a small cluster of boxes. Jake’s heart dropped into his stomach and a cold sweat drenched him in moments.  _ Not again,  _ he thought, conflicted with the urge to backup and move away or the  _ instinctual  _ urge to go over to the machine and start fiddling with it,  _ I don’t want to do this again.  _ **_How_ ** _ is this happening again? _

 

Since there was nobody or nothing around to show him a way out or to provide him with an alternative, Jake swallowed his rising fears and anxiety and strode over to the cold machine. Kneeling down beside the generator, he allowed the urge to repair it to take over, pulling out various wires and gears and shoving them in various that ultimately proved to be more helpful than harmful.

 

Eyes flickering between the internal mechanisms of the machine and the pistons chugging above, Jake found that it was relatively easy to get the second piston started alongside the first one, smiling softly in pride to himself at the accomplishment-

 

Until a soft  _ ding!  _ noise sounded in his ear and something circular flashed in front of his face, causing the machine to backfire in his face. Sparks and embers flew everywhere, singeing his hair and face with painful electrical particles and Jake flew back, covering his face with his hands to prevent further pain.

 

He didn’t know what the hell that just was, but it wasn’t good. He stood up fully, twisting his body around to look for any sign of anybody or anything coming over to his location to investigate the loud bang of the generator, ears straining to hear any noises that didn’t belong to nature. The seconds ticked by in his brain and Jake didn’t move until his lungs burned and he forcefully exhaled the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

 

When Jake was sure that he hadn’t alerted anyone with his mistake, he knelt down and went back to his work, directing all of his skills and attention to bringing the machine fully online. The pistons started moving again as soon as his hands were back inside the dark interior, and it wasn't long until the third was up and runnin-

 

_ Ding!  _ “Shit-” This time, despite still being as shocked as he was before, Jake got a better look at what flashed in front of his eyes before the generator exploded and burned his painfully again: it was a white circle as he had seen before with a section of it standing out from it with a red blur going across it.  _ This makes absolutely no sense,  _ Jake thought as he looked over his shoulder again, making sure there was no monster waiting there behind him to punish him for his mishap.

 

Nerves feeling like shredded wheat, Jake went back to working on the machine in front of him, resolute and determined to finish it and  _ to find out just what the hell those thing- _

 

_ Ding! _

 

This time when Jake heard the small chime, he simply let it go by, opting to simply observe it this go around instead of fumbling with wires and dropping gears and managing to burn the top of his head. The machine still exploded in his face and turned the tips of his gloves a burnt gray color, but it was well worth it because he was able to finally see a small red needle going around the circle until it went past the thicker part of the circle- and then his eyes were burning with exhaust.  _ It looked to be a timed-event sort of thing. _

 

Clearing his throat of the smoky fumes, Jake hardly took a break to look around this time before diving back into the generator, a new sense of confidence surging within him with the knowledge of how to circumvent the issue that kept popping up  _ quite literally _ . No sooner than that train of thought left the station, another one of those circle things popped up again, but this time, Jake managed to catch the red needle in the larger area, and he was rewarded with a lower pitched  _ ding! _ . This time, the generator didn’t backfire in his face which Jake was thankful of, and the 4th piston jumped to life immediately following the successful skill-check.

 

Smiling to himself, Jake’s brief moment of accomplishment was shattered when a scream rang out, echoing off the trees and ringing painfully in Jake’s ears. He couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like Dwight; it was certainly a mascueline voice. Not taking his hands out of the machine, Jake whipped his head around to see if he could tell which direction the voice came from, but all he saw was a red blob lying on the ground far away into the distance before it was picked up and disappeared. He had absolutely no idea what it was or what it meant, so Jake stored it in the category of _ “Shit that’s happening that I can’t explain” _ pit in his brain that was rapidly filling up and went back to shoving the last few bits of stray wires back into the generator that was chugging so loudly now that it was deafening.

 

The sound that the generator made as it came fully online nearly eclipsed the sound of the person screaming again, and this time the voice sounded definitely more mascueline and more Dwight-ish.

 

Jake’s lips prickled, twisting to the side in thought as his knees popped when he stood away from the whirling machine: does he try to save him, or will he be a dead man by the time he gets there? Surely the girls are closer than he is to him?  _ And doesn’t Claudette love saving people?  _ The last time they were in this situation, Jake remembered having to reign Claudette in from just gallivanting after a random scream that they heard in the forest lest it brought more danger upon them.

 

Claudette seemed like a fully capable woman. Even if Jake did feel bad for leaving Dwight to his dangling fate, the woodsman knew that it would only serve him right to get himself killed while trying to save the man.

 

So without further ado, Jake turned on his heels and walked briskly out into the forest, away from Dwight and away from the loud machinery he had just started.

  
  


///////////////

  
  


Dwight had never really...y’know,  _ imagined  _ what it felt like being shoved onto a metal hook and being left to dangle by his shoulder, and he could’ve gone the rest of his life perfectly well-off  _ without  _ knowing-

 

But alas, life has never been far to one Dwight Fairfield, not since the day he was born and not til the day he dies. Hacking up a clump of blood, Dwight mentally cursed himself while semi-conscious at being too slow to get into the locker. He shouldn’t have just stared at the machine after it blew up! He would’ve been fine if he’d left, like Meg had done, when he’d fucked it up- _ (he’s so used to fucking everything up the self-guilting feeling no longers sticks with him long enough to hurt) _

 

He just hopes Meg is smart enough to avoid getting caught by the monster like he  _ wished  _ he was.  _ Maybe if he had only been born with average intelligence- _

 

Lost in his self-doubt, Dwight was snatched from the claws of death itself, from which he had already resigned himself to, by none other than Claudette Morel, botanist extraordinaire. Before he could ask her what she was doing, she had placed her hands under his gross and sweaty armpits, hoisting him up and off the hook with all of her tiny frame’s strength until his feet came crashing to the ground.

 

Blood splashed on his slacks and shoes, ruining his outfit with a torrent of crimson flowing from his open shoulder wound. Dwight opened his mouth to thank her, but all that came out was a groan of pain and a wet cough that splattered blood on Claudette’s cute button up shirt. The office worker immediately felt guilty for ruining her shirt, but she shushed him and let him lean on her as he took a step forward, away from the rusty hook that was still dripping with his blood, and right into an open bear trap that he had failed to see the monster set right in front of him while on the hook.

 

_ S N A P ! _

 

Screaming in pain, Dwight immediately dropped to the ground, clutching at the metal jaws digging into his shinbone and carving into his flesh, a rapidly spreading pool of crimson spreading below him.

 

“Dwight!” Claudette exclaimed, kneeling down by his side and holding him upright when his knees started to shake. “It’s- it’s okay! I can-” 

 

_ Ba-thump. _

 

“No!” The noise that Dwight thought resembled a heartbeat started to overtake him, signaling bad tidings were coming upon them. “C-Claudette, go!” He yelled, desperately trying to escape himself by tugging the jaws apart, but only causing further pain and injury to his leg and hands. “He’s coming, save yourself!”

 

“But-” Her small hands wrapped around his arm, but Dwight shook them off hard.

 

“LEAVE!” He yelled at her much louder than he meant to. The fury, determination and fear mixing in his eyes was enough to finally push Claudette away, the woman finally noticing how out of her control the situation was and how imminent the heartbeat was.

 

With tears streaming down her cheeks, Claudette turned and ran away from Dwight, leaving him to his fate with the monster who had just poked its wooden mask through the trees to look at its trapped prey.

 

**_“You should really… mind your step.”_ ** Dwight  _ knew  _ the monster was mocking him for his mistake which only made him feel all the worse. At least Claudette was safe, though: that was all that mattered. 

 

“You… you monster!” Was all Dwight could manage to stutter out as a hand came down on the back of his shirt, grasping his button-up inbetween his shoulder blades and forcing his back to arch painfully and stare up into soulless holes. Dwight started hyperventilating. “Don-don’t do it. Please, please, don’t kill me!-” Further pleading was cut off as a large and leathery hand clasped his jaw hard enough that his teeth ached from the pressure.

 

**_“Pitiful. Begging will not help. You must be sacrificed.”_ ** Before Dwight could ask about  _ why  _ he was being sacrificed, he was thrown forward hard enough that one of the glass lenses in their frame broke, cutting his upper cheeks and eyebrow with glass shards before his source of 20/20 vision skittered off his face and into the dirt in front of him. Stunned from the impact, Dwight failed to react with large hands undid the trap around his ankle with unbelievable ease, picked him up and slung him over his shoulder to carry him off back to the same hook he was placed upon earlier.

 

“Stop, please!” Dwight begged one last time prior to his re-hooking, a scream of pain made his throat sore and painful and raw while his shoulder gap was made even wider. But Dwight didn’t suffer for long, as the claws came down upon him and, having never gone up against them before, was helpless to stop them, and Dwight Fairfield became the first one Sacrificed that night.

 

Somewhere, off in the distance, a second generator clicked to life.

  
  


///////////////

  
  


Meg had absolutely no engineering experience that could help her repair a machine- and now she regrets not taking that Mechanics class back in high school. She evidently wasn’t cut out for any kind of electrical work because it kept blowing up in her face, sending sparks flying and actually made her braids smoulder on more than one occasion, which only made it take more time to completely repair the machine in order to stop a potential hair-fire from turning her red hair into flames.

 

Needless to say, it took her much longer than she thought it would to repair the generator, so long that she almost gave up multiple times in favor of running off to find another one to start anew. When her hard work finally came to fruition, Meg started doing a little happy dance, proud of her accomplishment-

 

But it was cut off by Dwight’s scream, and the sound of the forest being ripped apart made her ears pound.  _ The last time she had heard that sound, she had watched someone get taken up into the sky. _

 

With that sobering thought in mind, Meg quickly ran away from the powered generator, running through the trees and boxes and brick walls until she came across the sound of a generator whirring, partly completed; and there was Jake Park, his gloves slick with oil as he fiddled with the generator.

 

“Jake!” Meg called out, happy to at least see another person, and Jake almost had a  _ fucking  _ stroke. The athlete couldn’t help but cover her mouth in a failed attempt to stifle her giggles as Jake gasped loud enough that he choked on his own spit and fell back onto his ass, sending his hair prickling his eyeballs. “Megan!” he yelled back, soundedly less than enthusiastic. Clearing his throat, Jake lowered his volume considerably when he realized that he was yelling.

 

“You really shouldn’t yell like that. The killer could hear you.”

 

“Oh!-  _ oh.”  _ Pursing her lips together, Meg made a mental note that she  _ really  _ needed to use her inside voice even while outside. Even though it’s never worked before, this situation was different. “Have you seen Dwight or Claudette?” She asked, coming to his side to see if she could assist Jake with his repair work. Judging by how slowly the gears were turning inside, he must had just gotten here before she did,

 

Jake shook his head, pressing two split wires together. “But I think Dwight’s dead.”

 

_ That makes sense,  _ Meg thought. It was definitely a male scream, probably Dwight’s, and the  _ other  _ noises… “I knew someone died.” She tried to sound knowledgeable. “I heard those crackling sky-noises again.”

 

“Crackling...sky-noises?” Jake asked, Meg seeing his shoulders suddenly jump and his eyes widened, as if he had been shocked by the wires he was messing with. Crackling sky-noises forgotten for the moment, Meg paused in tapping some metal and turned to face the woodsman. “Are you okay? Like, I’m pretty sure messing with live wires is  _ not  _ a smart thing to do-”

 

“No, no, it was that...thing.”

 

_ Thing?  _ Meg tilted her head to the side, braids tickling her exposed arms. “What? What thing are you talking about?” 

 

“The circle things that keep popping up,” Jake looked up, exasperated at his lack of explainability. “If you don’t hit them right, the generator blows up.”

 

The runner stared blankly at the man for a moment, the gears clicking in her head like the sound of the machine in front of her. “Oh- wait-  _ that’s  _ what that is!? I thought I was trippin’ my ass off!”

 

“I thought I was, too, at first.” The corner of his lips tugged in a soft smile. “It’s like a whack-a-mole game at an arcade. There’s a larger part of the circle you got to hit it in.”

 

“Well, that just makes this ten times easier.” Que Meg blowing up the generator as it proved  _ not  _ to be ten times easier. “Sorry!” She cried out, shielding her eyes from the sparks and it showered her in electric current. “I’ll get it. Eventually-”

 

Another scream stopped their light banter. And given that Dwight was already dead- “Claudette.” They both said in unison, turning to face each other and locking eyes. Jake started to stand up first “I will- _ can-  _ go save her.” He corrected himself, wiping his hands on the front of his parka. “Unless you want to.”

 

A small  _ “hmmm”  _ in consideration later, Meg leapt to her feet and headed towards the now glowing bubble that was the center of another heart-wrenching scream. “I suck at fixin’ these things, so I’ll go and you keep goin’.” And with an approving nod from Jake, Meg turned tail and took off at a sprint towards the red aura of the Canadian woman with all intents and purposes of saving her.

  
  
  


/////////////

  
  


Despite the giant monster lurking all around her, Megan found it super easy- far easier than what she had thought it would be- to get close to Claudette, close enough to let her instincts take over and firmly place her greasy hands under Claudette’s sweaty and bloody armpits.

 

“Hey, it’s okay!” She tried to reassure her, but she knew the kind of pain she was feeling could not be soothed in any way. “Imma get you down-” and with a hefty grunt, Claudette was on her feet and swaying with bloodloss against the runner, who took her under her arm “-and we’ll b-”

 

_ S N A P ! _

 

Pain erupted in Meg’s lower leg as the snapping sound that she had come to associate with those horrid traps and she fell to the ground clutching her shattered ankle locked into place by sharp jaws. Claudette fell next to her, still stunned and disoriented from being rescued from the hook, whimpering in pain as she tried to lift her head to look at her savior. “Meg…” She tried to rasp out, but the heartbeat, which had been completely absent, suddenly roared in both of their ears.

 

Meg threw her head back just in time to see the monster standing over both of them with its weapon raised and bringing it down across Claudette’s back before Meg could shield her.

 

“No!” The athlete croaked out, voice hoarse from pain and her own tears. She turned her head at the last moment so she would see Claudette take an excruciating swipe to her spine that left her barely stirring on the dirt, but Claudette’s blood still splattered across her face in a stain that would never come off.

 

The hopelessness of the situation dawned on Megan as Claudette was promptly picked back up and tossed carelessly on the hook and the redhead began to cry which only turned into gross sobbing as the sound of Claudette being penetrated by those dark legs and being taken off into the sky deafened her.

 

When the only remaining sound was the sound of nature, the monster’s animalistic breathing and her own crying, Meg swallowed the bile in her throat- only for it to come out of her nose in a burning throw-up-sneeze.

 

**_“You should really… watch your step.”_ ** The monster spoke as he picked her up, acid running down her lips and joining the puddle of blood beneath her that quickly disappeared out of her field of view the further away the monster carried her. 

 

Meg was so  _ distraught  _ with everything that had happened that she found no energy to fight, to struggle, to survive, and even let the Entity take her on her first hook after she had unsuccessfully tried to wretch herself off the blood-stained metal up into the empty sky…

  
  


///////////////

  
  


...leaving Jake Park as the lone survivor. His solitary mind strayed for a moment, internally screaming at him that he should’ve went with Meg to save Claudette and then trying to guilt-trip him when he heard both of them screaming in fear and pain. The noises that followed those screams, though, is what Meg  _ delicately  _ described as “crackling-sky-noises” and Jake couldn’t find a better term to reclassify it.

 

When the girls screams had faded away, he begrudgingly left the generator that he nearly had completed in favor of hiding away for a while to think and sort out his thoughts. He didn’t have much of a plan: quite honestly, he didn’t know  _ what,  _ if anything, he could do. Who knows what these generators did and how many he needed to repair- and where is even an escape at? He’s sure if there even was an escape, he would’ve seen it by now.

 

Seeing nothing else he could do, Jake simply tucked himself inbetween a few trees and large bushes and waited for  _ something  _ to pop up, or to give him a hint or a clue as to how to proceed forward-

 

_ CAW! _

 

Suddenly, a crow loudly declared its presence on Jake’s shoulder, the avian looking around for a few moments before fixing its gaze back on the woodsman and cawed loudly again.

 

“Hey, shhhhh.” Remaining calm and using all of his animal caregiving skills he had acquired while living out in the woods, Jake slowly lifted his finger until it was eye level with the bird, then gently brought it down and stroked its beak. It cawed again, but softer this time and with more of a trill to it, and this time it summoned a friend that perched itself on the opposing shoulder.

 

After giving the first one a few pets, Jake switched attention to give the second one a few strokes too, soothing its loud cawing to soft calls and trills. For a few moments, it was almost as if Jake was back at his little cabin in the woods, with Sopa rolling around...somewhere around his feet and Joker hiding his tea again in the cabinets-

 

_ Ba-thump. Ba-thump. _

 

The heartbeat started off slow but quickly gained in intensity and volume as Jake tried to make himself as hidden as possible, shooing away the cows on his shoulders that cawed as the noise grew louder and louder, one even starting to circle right over his head, giving away his direct position…

 

Jake had never felt real, true, absolute  _ terror  _ as he had felt at the moment a red light washed over him: he had lived out in the woods for a number of years, seen and fought up against 600+ pounds of bear and won, nearly chopped his own leg off one time when he had a cold and had survived periods of literally sleeping in a tent when a lengthy snowstorm came through once when he was living in his trailer and caved part of the roof in.

 

But being chased by a monster that was beyond imagination and nightmares that had supernatural abilities and was going to kill him a  _ second  _ time?  _ Fuck no _ . Jake jumped to his feet and ran for it, but wasn’t fast enough to avoid a swipe to his back from the monster, pain and blood erupting from the wound and throwing Jake forward hard enough that he stumbled, but kept going because he wasn’t about to  _ allow  _ himself to be killed like a pig.

 

Although that may be easier said than done. The more Jake ran, the more he realized that there wasn’t much to work with in the way of defending himself from the monster gaining ground no matter how fast he ran. There was nothing but trees and the random pieces of wood laying around upright that was far too big and heavy for him to grab at. Every step he took sent shockwaves of pain radiating through his body until something in his side  _ popped!  _ and he ran straight into a tree, holding his side and not daring to look at what bone was poking his palm.

 

The rough bark scratched his face as he pressed his nose against it before he twisted around in a flash, gritting his teeth and spitting at the monster. “Fuck you!” He tired to back away, to curve around the tree but his knees started to buckle under the weight of his own suffering. “What do you want?” He asked, the hand not clutching his side was clutching a low tree branch. “What-  _ ahhh _ \- what the fuck are you?” His voice cracks at the end but his snarl does not, holding himself in place, half hiding behind the tree and staring directly up at the monster emitting the red light that seemed to reflect off the ground beneath them.

 

The monster took slow steps towards him that Jake viewed in a mocking manner, until he was inches from the prey trembling and bleeding before him. He remembered this one: he was so scared and shocked that he had allowed himself to be taken the first time but had ran the second time, and it appeared that the third time he would be standing his ground. In a flash of a second, the monster raised up his weapon and brought it down on the prey’s shoulder but not actually injuring him, awaiting to see how he’d react.

 

The prey naturally flinched, but did not beg or slink away.  **_Interesting._ **

 

Intrigued by the prey’s response, the monster decided to humor the prey with its questions since, after all, this one may be one of the rare meats to stick around for a bit.  **_“I’ve been called… many names.”_ ** He started, lifting his cleaver up slightly to press it against the prey’s scratched face. The bloodlust of the hunt had simmered for the moment, the Entity not clawing at his brain for food at the current second, giving him a brief riposte during a Trial to communicate shortly. **_“The name that She has given me is… The Trapper.”_**

 

He watched the prey’s mouth open, but before a conversation could endure, the Entity screaming at him again, and the monster raised his weapon up and brought it down on the prey’s shoulder, rendering him down and on the ground.

 

The Entity rejoiced.

 

 

 


	14. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake discovers that there is truly monsters lurking in the dark.
> 
> Jake being an even bigger dumb bitch and going into the woods yet again, kAren.

“Okay, so… how are all of you guys doing?”

 

Everybody gave Dwight various glares of disappointment and depression.

 

“Not...not good then, I suppose.” His voice trailed off, realizing just how stupid he sounded. After everybody had gone back to staring either at their laps or off into space, Dwight sighed and shoved his fingers back into his mouth to gnaw on his nails. He didn’t notice it, but Jake’s facial muscles twitched at the actions.

 

The freshness of all of them dying horrible and painful deaths were still too raw and sore to even offer comfort to each other, all of them a good arms length distance from each other. Meg, despite being all talk and nerves earlier, was eerily silent now, quietly fiddling with her braids and bandage that Claudette had wrapped around her arm when she noticed that it was scratched up from stumbling into a thicket some time long ago. She hadn’t even noticed or felt the dried blood.

 

On the contrary, Jake actually broke the silence and spoke up. “He said his name was the Trapper.”

 

Claudette jumped at the sound of his voice out of unexpectedness and nearly passed out from surprise. “What?” She breathed out, wholly stunned by this new piece of evidence.

 

Jake shrugged. “I was the last person. He hit me and chased me until he was about to hit me again, but I stopped and turned around and just… yelled at him. Asked him what he wanted.”

 

“Usually that doesn’t work in horror movies.” Meg muttered, flicking dirt off her knees. She sounded upset at Jake’s revelation, but the woodsman didn’t let that stop him.

 

“It apparently did this time.”

 

Dwight took his hand out of his mouth, much to Jake’s happiness. “He actually talked to you?” A pang of sadness made Dwight hate himself for being  _ jealous  _ of the monster talking to Jake as well. What, did he kiss him, too!?

 

“He said, and I quote: I’ve had many names. the name she has given me is the Trapper.” He knew it was coming, but the shitstorm of questions that he was pelted with made him crave to be back in his hermit cave again.

 

“”She”? Who the fuck is “she”?”

 

“Many names? What does that mean?”

 

And there was Meg, back to her usual loud self. “Hey, I asked first!”

 

Seeing the situation out of hand, Dwight clapped his hands loudly and whistled. “Hey! Guys! Let Jake talk!”

 

“ _ Agh _ , you don’t need to yell, Dwight.” Meg complained, covering her ears and sticking her tongue out at the man who attempted to take control. But nobody started yelling questions and Jake resumed speaking.

 

“That’s what he said. Then he killed me before I could ask him to go on.”

 

“That was all?” Claudette asked, tucking a stray piece of thick hair behind her ears while her scientific gears turned in her head. Jake nodded an affirmative, giving the group more questions than answers.

 

Meg exhaled and shook her head, braids striking everyone around her. “The Trapper, huh? Makes sense, I keep stepping in them.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Claudete apologized softly. “If I had seen him place it there, I would have told you-”

 

“It’s fine, Claudy. We all know how hard it is to not pass out, much less give out instructions on how to avoid a bear trap.” Meg gave Claudette a friendly hand squeeze, the two exchanging soft smiles of reassurement and bringing the conversation at the fire to a halt for the time being until Claudette yawned and slumped against the log she was propped up against. “I’m going to rest my eyes for a bit.”

 

Dwight took his finger nubs out of his mouth. “Are-are we-?”

 

“I don’t think so.” Claudette replied, voice heavy with sleep. “It’s not as sudden as last time. I’m just so tired from  _ everything. _ I want to rest.” Another yawn, and Claudette let her eyes close behind her glasses. Meg decided to join her, opting to actually laying on the ground instead of against a log with a declaration of  _ “wake me up if Traps McGee comes around” _

 

The office worker and the woodsman were left to their own devices as the girls quickly fell asleep, the two men not speaking out of concern for waking the women up. Dwight resigned himself to quietly gnawing on his nails and Jake… just couldn't stand the sight, but couldn’t be bothered to tell Dwight to stop his actions.

 

So he did the only thing he could do: stand up and promptly exit stage. “I’m going to take a walk.”

 

Lips parting, Dwight’s fingers slipped from his lips. “In the woods? But the mo- the Trapper could be out there!”

 

_ Running into the Trapper is better than watching you auto-cannibalize.  _ “...I think I’ll take my chances.” His curt reply left no room for discussion, and Jake turned around and stalked off into the darkness of the forest before Dwight could verbalize just how dangerous and potentially hazardous walking off alone in the woods could be for Jake’s health.

 

Leaving the warmth of the campfire behind, Jake had an instant sense of regret overcome him as the dankness of the fog permeated through his thick parka and made him shiver, but he found the silence and lack of others constantly around him to be a great burden that was lifted off his shoulders. His brain stopped fizzing and buzzing from  _ social contact _ , and Jake psychically breathed a sigh of relief as the calmness of the wilderness brought about a sense of familiarity to him that reminded him strongly of his home.

 

He refused to call this  _ place  _ his home. No, his home was his cabin that he had built himself in the seclusion and beauty of the Blue Ridge Mountains; his home was with his various pets and his mother’s regular visits and his chickens-  _ not here in this hellhole being chased by a monster to be placed on a hook as some sort of sick offering in some sort of sick game to some si- _

 

A tree beside him exploded. Well, not really  _ exploded _ , but his head twists around violently to see a glint of metal  _ (the weapon that had struck him and his newfound accomplicances down violently earlier)  _ imbedded in a tree very close to his person, and the owner of said weapon was breathing heavily through a hideous grinning mask and staring him down with empty eyes.

 

Jake gasped loudly, backpedaling a few feet to escape the monster who had just made themselves known to him… but then he stopped when he realized that the monster, The Trapper, was hungrily pursuing after him. Living out in the woods had taught him a lot about predator and prey dynamics: many predators only chase after startled and fleeing prey.

 

He froze in place, not moving an inch in any direction, not even blinking nor breathing until the monster lowered his weapon ever so slightly enough that the blood still dripping off the metal was no longer shining brightly in the moonlight  _ (the moonlight thought also reminded Jake that it shouldn’t be possible to still be night) _ .

 

Things reached a standstill then: neither of the parties moved except for their bodies natural circadian rhythms that seemed to almost sync together the longer that they stood still.

 

**_“Hhmm.”_ ** The deep, booming voice of the Trapper startled Jake, his heart leaping into his throat wordlessly.  **_“You’re already not scared of me?”_ **

 

“Yes.” An absolute, bloody lie, but Jake realizes that this may be his only chance to get any sort of answer before he is hung up on another hook to be taken up into the sky. His hands are trembling, so he shoves them as casually as he could into his parka pockets as to not to betray the calm demeanor he’s upfronting so well. In fact, he acts so casual and collected that he snorts softly at the question. “Clearly, this is some crazy shit that just, completely disregards the laws of  _ everything. _ ” 

 

The Trapper takes one step closer to him, and it takes every ounce of willpower in Jake’s bones to stay stationary.  **_“Do you think this is not real?”_ **

 

His eyes scatter for a moment across the landscape of never-ending trees, trying to calculate the possibility that all of this was actually happening and not just a figment of his imagination. For all he knew, he could be in a coma or something like that. “There’s… reasons why it could be and reasons why it could not be.” Another step closer, and the weapon comes to rest against the side of his face again, and Jake still holds himself still even though he starts sweating bullets under all of his thick layers like a marathon runner. 

 

**_“Let me put your mind at ease, meat.”_ ** The monster speaks ethereally.  **_“This. Is. Real.”_ ** Jake did not like being called  _ meat  _ one bit, but he’s not about to voice his displeasure with a weapon to his face, but the corner of his lips curled upwards in a snarl.

 

“Says  _ you _ .” Jake replies, vitriol in his voice and resistance in his stance. “You’re some sort of  _ monster.  _ Monsters don’t exist-!” The woodsman sentence is cut off short as a thick, meat and leathery hand wraps around his throat hard enough to prevent any kind of getaway from Jake.

 

**_“I do exist. I do not like being told otherwise.”_ ** The Trapper transferred his hold from Jake’s neck directly to the grey scarf around his neck, keeping him in place.  **_“You will learn to be afraid of me and Her.”_ **

 

Jake lost his composure for the brief moments that the monster had a grip around his neck, a long-dwelling fear of being choked resurfacing in mere milliseconds. Hands shot out of his pockets and fumbled at the Trapper’s large wrist for purchase but found that there was nothing to hold on to that would make a difference: he was too large for even both of his hands to grab. “Wh-!”  _ He will not be anyone’s prey!  _ Jake bares his teeth then, pride and ego jabbed hard enough to cause his chest to constrict painfully and willful defiance became his prominent emotion.

 

“There’s-” The monster’s hold changes, allowing Jake to suck in a lungful of air. “I’ve died and come back. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” He was having trouble believing himself, but the statement rang profoundly in his consciousness. Jake realized that he was absolutely right- if he’s died and been resurrected like Jesus Christ himself, then that means he  _ can’t  _ die,  _ right? _

 

The monster tilted his head at him for a moment, as if actually contemplating if his words were truthful… then the monster chuckled, a deep and booming sound that reminded Jake of an underground rumble.  **_“You will be a pain in my ass.”_ ** And then, to Jake’s great surprise, the monster completely let go of Jake and even took a step away from him. **_“Ask the others to tell you about Her. I have work to attend to-”_ **

 

“Others?” Jake questions, confused about being grabbed and then let go, confused about all this new information and conversation to process, and confused about why the monster was turning around to leave. “Nobody here knows what the fuck is going on.” Confusion and anger mixed dangerously within the smaller male, shoving his clammy hands back into his pockets to hide just how jilted he was.

 

At this, the Trapper, turned his head back towards Jake in a puzzled manner. **_“...There are not others there to teach you?”_** The monster saw out of the corner of his eye the shake of Jake’s dark head. **_“Then I’m sure She will help you...somehow.”_** The Trapper is exactly not sure how the Survivors gain so much knowledge of their environment so quickly, but he knows that She tries Her best to make the Trial as even-keeled as possible in terms of possible outcomes. 

 

But that is not for him to ponder over at the moment; really at all. He hears Her whisper that it is beneath him to communicate with the meat like this- Evan will do as She pleases in the way of giving Her sustenance- but he has his own mind and thoughts. Sometimes. 

 

His traps needs cleaning and resetting and the Trapper decides that he does not have any more time to listen to this little worm. The little worm should be humbled that he gave him a  _ grunt  _ as a goodbye before he turns completely back around and stalks back off towards his territory, not caring if the little worm goes back to his Campfire or mills about until some  _ other  _ creature gets a hold of him and makes him their dinner.

 

The only thing he cares about is getting to his shelter as soon as possible and resting his bad knee.  _ The bloody thing was killing him. _

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh i see trapper as like the really old dad/uncle who just doesn't give a shit anymore about the hooligans he's been given to watch. i love trapper so much he'll probably get his own few chapters.
> 
> you bet your ass that if you ask him for mcdonalds he'll take you there only to get himself a coffee and tell you to eat dirt.
> 
> #GiveTrapperARaise2k19


	15. Bloodweb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your mind had opened the Bloodweb. 
> 
> Karen finally starts to level up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait inbetween chapters! had some personal issues come up that distracted me away from writing so to make up for it here's an especially long one just for y'all!
> 
> nut with safety in mind.

Jake, in fact, was not as stupid as the Trapper assumed he was, and sprinted back to the warmth and safety of the Campfire as soon as the monster had turned his back to him, calm demeanor dropping in favor of hauling ass back towards the others. He didn’t stop until the flames were close enough to singe his wild hair, skidding to a stop on his knees and breathing heavily.

 

The woodsman was so shaken by his experience that he didn’t even notice Dwight staring at him with wide eyes until the pale man started sputtering. “J-Jake! What happened? I- I told you not to-”

 

“I met him.” Wiping his face on his bare hands after removing his gloves and shoving then in his back pocket. “The m- Trapper.” He was breathless, heart still pounding as if he was still being chased by the damned thing itself. Jake pressed his fists into the hollow of his eyes, trying to relieve the throbbing headache starting to form behind his eyes from all of this stress. “He was...” Jake stopped to swallow the dim taste of acid in his mouth so he didn’t throw up in front of Dwight like a fucking idiot. “...out there.”

 

_ I was right!  _ Selfishly doing a victory dance in his head over being  _ right  _ for once in his life, Dwight put his hand on Jake’s shoulder put taking it back when the man gave him a slanted look from under his long sidebangs.  _ But,  _ Dwight thought to himself,  _ it’s kinda hard to tell when he’s looking at me normally or glaring at me because he’s Asian.  _ He really hopes that Jake isn’t a mind reader or he might call him some sort fo racist.

 

“Did he…” Dwight trailed off, not sure of what to ask. “...hurt you or anything?”

 

Jake shook his head immediately, dispeling Dwight’s fears. “He grabbed me and shook me, trying to scare me. He stopped when he saw it wasn’t working.”

 

“Wasn’t working?” Dwight already had a feeling that Jake was tougher than most people  _ (especially him) _ , probably a manly man… but standing up to the monster? That was hero-level. “You mean you, like, stood up to him?”

 

Not sure how to exactly describe what went down, Jake shrugged, a motion that Dwight was quickly realizing meant several different things to the other man. “I just… didn’t show fear to him, I guess. He just- I don’t know, he tried to scare me away, it felt like.”

 

Dwight turned away from a second. “So, you mean, like… he was trying to intimidate you out of the woods? Like you weren’t supposed to be there?” Meg snorted in her sleep very loudly, shutting the boys up for a few moments as they remembered their less conscious company and that they were speaking louder than they should be.

 

Next when Jake spoke, it was softer and more in control, something that Dwight wished he had over himself. “I don’t know enough to say yes. But I managed to ask him a few questions before he left.”

 

“And?” Dwight’s eyes beneath his glasses glittered with anticipation at Jake’s words: maybe perhaps he got some useful information to get out of here! But the next thing he said only made the thick ball of dread in his stomach tighten “I told him that I didn’t think all of this was  _ really real _ . He said it was. And…” Jake trailed off, turning away himself to look up into the starless night sky. “...I kinda believe it. This is just  _ too crazy  _ to be a figment of my imagination.”

 

“Yeah.” Sighing, Dwight brought his hand up to his mouth again to gnaw on his already sore fingertips again. Jake, for once in his life, had the urge to start a conversation with someone if only to get Dwight to stop  _ literally eating himself.  _

 

“I…” Unfortunately, socializing was at the bottom of his skill list. “He also said… weird things. He talked about  _ Her  _ again and about ‘others’ here.” His distraction tactic worked, and Dwight’s spit-ridden hand dropped to his lap.  _ But was this newfound attention placed upon him worth it?  _ “He said something like  _ ‘ask the others to teach you about Her’  _ as if there were other people here besides us.”

 

“This is a lot, Jake.” Dwight complimented him, reaching out to pat some part of his arm, but once again he aborted that plan when Jake narrowed his eyes at him again- or at least, he thought he did-  _ it was so hard to tell!  _ “I wouldn’t recommend, uhhh… going out into the woods to meet with a serial killer to get that information, but good job!”

 

Jake just stared at him like he had been doing throughout his entire little speech and then graced him with a generous nod. “Thanks.” Dwight expected him to say more, but he was disappointed when he didn’t and they both fell into silence again until Jake stretched his legs out with a soft noise and laid down on the ground. “I’m going to rest.”

 

“Wait!” Dwight jumped up, his mind lurching his body into action before he could stop himself when a particular memory resurfaced. Grimacing when he realized just how loud he had been, Dwight immediately reeled in his volume. “Did he- the Trapper- did he, uhh…”

 

Jake cocked his head on the ground which looked really funny to Dwight. “What?”

 

“Di-did he, ummmm…”  _ Come on, Dwight, you’ve already started your sentence!  _ “...did h-he, did he… k-kiss you?”

 

Jake looked astonished for a while, coolness gone from his face replaced with a look of bewilderment. “No, no he didn’t.” Slowly shaking his head, Dwight could finally confirm what Jake;s eyes look like slanted in suspicion. “Why do you ask?”

 

“Oh, umm, no reason!” Sweating nervously, Dwight tried to desperately backpedal from the whole conversation. His face felt as hot as flames with embarrassment and shame. Chuckling, Dwight took off his glasses and laid down on the ground away from the other male, fake-looking at his watch. “Oh, well, would you look at the time! I guess I should get some sleep as well-”

 

_ “Dwight.”  _ Jake interrupted his nervous rambling with a stern tone of voice. “Did he kiss  _ you?”  _ A staring battle ensued, one that Dwight quickly lost. Sitting up on his elbows, Dwight looked down at the space between him and Jake.

 

“Yes. I don’t know why!” He was quick to blurt out, in case Jake thought he would just go around and kiss random monsters. “I didn’t  _ ask  _ him- he just did it! I was so startled that I didn’t know what to do…”

 

“When?” Jake asked, propping himself up on his hands to be more a part of the interesting turn in conversation though he wished he wouldn’t have when Dwight went back to gnawing on his fingers again. “The first time we were all together- well, before that. I think I met him before anybody got hurt or anything. God, I was so  _ terrified- _ ” Shuddering, Dwight winced when he bit down too hard on an exposed nailbed, sending a shock of pain up his hand.

 

Jake relaxed his unintentionally stiff stance, looking Dwight and up and down. “Did he do more than-”

 

“Oh, no! No, no, no ahaha!” Interrupting Jake’s question that Dwight already knew the ending of, he took his hand out of his mouth to wave them dismissively at the other man. “Nothing like that, just… kissed me.”

 

He felt Jake’s eyes on him. “Huh.” The other male said simply, mulling over thoughts in his own head. “Are you… okay?”  _ He is the absolute wrong person to be asking therapy from. Honestly,  _ **_he’s_ ** _ probably the one that needs the most therapy- _

 

“I think I’m fine.” Now that Dwight had been brutally murdered by a monster, a short kiss from said monster seemed relatively  _ soft and tame  _ to him. A wave of exhaustion washed over the office worker, and Dwight let his body flopped to the dirt with little finesse. “I’m going to try and rest now.”

 

Jake watched Dwight lay back down on the dirt and roll over on his side, facing away from him and out into the other side of the forest surrounding him. The woodsman didn’t lay down quite yet, choosing to stare at Dwight’s form on the ground for a few moments longer before slowly lowering himself back onto the ground to rest. Uncomfortable as it was, he found his eyes starting to get heavy from tiredness but it wasn’t like the sudden exhaustion he had felt before the fog rolled in and took them all away to be hunted down again.

 

His eyes had just slid shut when he felt  _ very  _ much awake, jumping up from his sleeping position as if he had just been woken up by a loud alarm. Jake looked around to see the source of his sudden wokeness, but found nothing… literally nothing. Everything was black: the campfire was gone, the others were gone, all sources of light and wildlife were gone as if it had all just been sucked up by a large vacuum.

 

It’s one thing to live alone in the woods with nothing but Mother Nature around you; here, there’s literally nothing for Jake to work with. He didn’t call out as most people would, scared and desperate for signs of life, instead, the man took a careful look of his surroundings and saw something  _ shimmer  _ off somewhere to his right. Seeing that there was nothing else for him to go off of, Jake cautiously walked towards it, everything that had transpired in this place still fresh in his mind and warning him of possible danger ahead.

 

The closer he got to it, the more he could make of the glowing circle shape suspended in the air. It was red and tempting, something that called to him to  _ reach out _ and touch it as if it was an innate desire to make contact with it. A red, twinkling star-like shape that pulsated and vibrated with an intensity that made Jake think that it was alive; the closer he got to it, the more he heard the soft, crackling noises that he had started to associate with being hung on a hook as a bloody sacrifice.

 

Jake didn’t feel awake yet he didn’t feel asleep at the same time, making him feel disoriented and whacked out. More scratching noises encompassed him and he  _ swore  _ he felt something hard push him towards the red star, now close enough to see that it was about the same size of his head.

 

Something  _ did  _ scrape along the small of his back then and Jake gasped, twisting around to see a long, black, chitin-like limb retreating from him and into the inky darkness unceremoniously- and more of them were surrounding him loosely or just lingering at the edge of his peripheral. He tried to back away from the encroaching limbs but he found himself caged in by an invisible boundary that rebounded and pushed him forward towards the very thing he was trying to get away from.

 

His feet skidded across the black floor like he was hydroplaning until he was once again close enough to the pulsating star to touch it.

 

**Touch it.**

 

_ That was not his voice but yet it came from inside his head- _

 

**Touch it.**

 

Something prodded him in his back to urge him closer to the red star like he was a shy child being brought to a party of strangers by his parents. Jake did not like being forced closer to this unknown thing, but everytime he tried to move away, he was just pushed and held closer. 

 

**Touch. It.**

 

_ So this thing really wanted him to touch it, huh _ ? Metaphorically gluing his arms to his sides in defiance, Jake absolutely refused to do what the voice all around him was urging him to do, go so far as to tightly cross his hands over his chest when long, spidery limbs tried to worm their way under his elbows. He heard a noise of displeasure echo throughout his head, and the limbs retracted along with the glowing red star- but then his world spun around like he was in one of those tea cup rides at an amusement park and found himself presented with… his clothes.

 

Other clothes that he possessed but wasn’t wearing currently at the moment. One of them was a familiar orange windbreaker jacket that he reserved for wearing during the more nasty days, and a short-sleeved plaid shirt topped with a vest  that he usually wore on days he went fishing for long periods of time, both hanging suspended in the air with a pair of pants underneath them, all of which he recognized as being his.

 

**Wear them.**

 

Strangely enough, he could also see a description next to all of his clothes like something you would see at a fashion show and Jake wasn’t about to be part of a  _ fucking fashion show. _ He refused it all with a sharp shake of his head, arms so tight around his chest his ribs ached. “No.” He finally said, words feeling weird and foreign out of his own mouth. It was a feeling that he got when he dreamt about him talking, but this was all too interactive and precise to be a dream. The limbs once again pushed the articles of clothing, and one limb came from behind and rubbed along his jawline in a creepy caress that took him by surprise and made him jump into the air.

 

The limb drew back and Jake’s face felt itchy. Bringing his hand to his chin, he found that he was now sport a full-on beard and Jake started to pinch himself on his arm to wake up. 

 

**Hmmmmm? Better?**

 

“No!” Jake yelled, backing away from everything and the limbs that had begun to surround him again, running as fast as he could in the opposite direction to break free, to  _ wake up wake up wake the fuck up!-  _ Jake ran across the black expanse until there was suddenly no more floor beneath him and began plummeting at a rapid rate of descent-

 

Eyes snapping open, Jake felt his body as tense as a board when he became aware of his surroundings; of the fire crackling and burning brightly beside him, of the snores of the others around him, of the pounding and racing of his own heartbeat making his fingers twitch and feel full of adrenaline. Darting his gaze all around him to make sure there were no limbs reaching out for him, Jake slowly sat up and looked at the sleeping forms of Claudette and Dwight to his side, but Meg was not where Jake had last seen here.

 

“For a guy who’s kinda hush-hush you snore like the Devil’s upon us.”  _ Ah, there she is.  _ Jake looks across the fire to see Meg standing on top of a log holding out a phone that resembled more of a pink brick to Jake than anything else, which is probably why he should start at least keeping up with the latest inventions in technology rather than just sticking to his radio, but he’s stuck in his ways and  _ it’s not like it really matters anymore. _ “Shit. Still don’t have a signal.” She sighs before dropping her arm, but she remains standing on the log and looking skywards.

 

“I ain’t no hobo, but I loved the stars at night.” Jake isn’t sure if she’s speaking to him or herself, so he doesn’t answer her. Luckily, she continues right on without asking him for his opinion. “My Mom used to take me outside to watch them, especially when I was being a little shit and staying up past my bedtime. Can’t remember every single one of them, but the North Star was so pretty I’d spot it from anywhere.” Jake sees her eyebrows furrowed together and a frown tugged at the corner of her lips like she was expecting something to drop from the sky but was sorely disappointed.

 

After a pregnant pause in which Meg considered throwing a temper tantrum, she let her shoulders slumped in defeat and hopped down from the log and sat her rear end on it a heartbeat later, her jacket flapping as she roughly let herself-  _ wait, jacket? _

 

Jake pointed at her with a solitary finger. “Where did you get that jacket?”

 

“Huh?” Meg deadpanned for a moment, following his pointing with her eyes until she noticed her new jacket. “Oh, uh! This might sound crazy but-”

 

“You had a crazy dream in which the spider legs that kills us offered you new clothes?” Jake finished for her with a small tilt of his head that Meg would’ve knocked him silly for interrupting her but it was kinda cute so she let it slide this  _ one _ time. “Yeah… did it happen to you, too?”

 

Jake nodded, moving to sit cross-legged on the ground so he could better face the woman he was talking to. “It was so real… like it wasn’t a dream. And I can see now that it wasn’t.”

 

“Hmmm, I don’t know, man. I mean, we all fell asleep, right? And we both had the same dream but we didn’t see each other- and I was here the whole time! Not to be creepy, but I watched you sleep for a good five minutes before you woke up. You didn’t go anywhere, dude.”

 

Unbeknownst to Meg, who simply saw Jake’s neutral exterior that he had amazingly kept up most of the time he was here, the woodsman started to panic within the confines of his already stretched-thin mental barrier: if he didn’t go anywhere, it must’ve been in his head. And he didn’t simply dream or hallucinate it since Meg had gone through the same. The probability of them both dreaming the exact same thing at the same time was astronomically low, so it must’ve been…  _ real _ .

 

Perhaps when the others woke up, Jake could ask them if they had similar experiences. Or maybe he could ask Meg specifics if she would stop talking for more than a moment’s pause to catch her breath.

 

_ This is reminding him why he left to go live out in the woods.  _ She was starting to give him a headache.


	16. Out of the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fire provides more than just warmth and calmness.
> 
> A surprisingly lack of Karen in this one, but we all have a little bit of Karen in us, don't we, Karen?hMMMMMMMMMMMM
> 
> Also yes, hello, I'm alive! Sorry for the long wait, but I've started night classes and I moved, and you never realize how much stuff your family has collected over the years until you have to haul it all out.
> 
> I would've kept going on with this chapetr, but it's been over 2 months already and I wanted to have a whole chapter just for the drama queen Benedicky himself. Also A R C H I V E S when MCOTE YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM ME!
> 
> Without further ado, please read and enjoy!

The next time Dwight and Claudette woke up, it was surrounded by dark trees and dense fog, no Campfire or fellow friends in sight. 

 

Needless to say, they were both collectively losing their shits in unique ways; Claudette wide-eyed and sticking to her partner like glue and Dwight biting his nails as hard as he could like a woodchipper. Even though they were together, they felt… strangely separate and alone, and it was reflected in the way that Claudette stuttered as she whispered to her bespectacled friend.

 

“Wh-where are-are we?” Claudette didn’t usually stutter like this, except when she was lost or felt alone. And Dwight wasn’t doing much better, his act of trying to be a brave leader evaporated as growing chittering noises began to assault his senses. Swallowing his saliva and fingernail hard, Dwight’s free hand clung back. “I-I don’t know!” He squeaked back, frozen in place as his eyes began to play tricks on him, so he thought, of seeing stuff start to move and dance all around him, just out of his field of view.

 

As the pair of them hyperventilating, they were both suddenly grabbed around their waists and torso by long, black limbs that had impaled them whilst dangling from meat hooks and drug their corpses off into the sky. Claudette let out a scream, frantically trying to stay her hold on Dwight and push away the claws, but Dwight was forced to watch as Claudette was hauled off into the inky darkness, just as he was being done the same. 

 

“Hey!” He yelled out, a bit of bravery filling his soul. “Let go!” A quick look a round proved that there was no weapon of any sort he could use- not even his nails. Feet skittering along the ground, Dwight came to a sudden stop and was twisted roughly 180 degrees, away from where Claudette had been. More claws descended in front of him, and Dwight flinched away, burying his face in his hands to protect him from the impending mauling he was surely about to endure…

 

**Touch it.**

 

_ What? _ Dwight was utterly confused, especially when he worked up the nerve to opened his eyes: presented to him was old clothes of his, clothes that he never thought he would see again. Divided into two outfits, one was his PizzaWhat! Delivery outfit, and the other was the old Manager’s vest that he had while he worked at the Shop ‘n Bag back in highschool to earn a little bit of extra money so he could leave home faster.

 

While he wore the delivery outfit frequently enough (his part time job on the side because the office  _ did not  _ pay enough), he hadn’t seen that Manager’s vest in  _ years _ . Dwight was surprised it still existed.  _ But why in the hell-  _ **_how_ ** _ \- did it end up here? _

 

**Touch it.**

 

The order came from within his own head, but not in his voice and that scared the hell out of him. Dwight was reluctant to do anything the intrusive voice asked, but the long legs wrapped around his waist gave him an encouraging squeeze and the clothes were brought closer to him, within arm’s reach. Even with his poor vision, Dwight could see that there was what appeared to be a brief description next to each article of clothing that only served to freak him out even more.

 

**Touch it.** The voice came again, more insistent this time, and his clothes were brought a little bit closer to him. Intimidated by the clicking and groaning noises of the legs all around him, Dwight reached out to brush against the fabric of his old vest that felt… just like his vest did, scratchiness and all. The second he touched the cloth, the noises around him dulled, pleased with his actions and brought relief to his ears.

 

**Grab it.**

 

Dwight did so, afraid that if he didn’t, the loud noises would come back. Holding it awkwardly to his chest, Dwight was almost too nervous to look up at the dark tendrils twitching above him. Quite unexpectedly, the clothes  _ melded  _ into his skin, the vest and shirt underneath simply replacing his plain office shirt and tie and casting it into the darkness surrounding him in vapory wisps. Gasping in shock, Dwight took a sudden step backwards and started falling endlessly, screaming and clasping onto the nothingness that raced past him…

 

His eyes flew open, and Dwight sat straight up, still screaming and flailing about until  _ something  _ jumped on top of him and started slapping him hard enough that he choked on his own tongue and asphyxiated, effectively cutting off his screams. 

 

His glasses were also knocked off his face, leaving him more or less blind. “STOP SCREAMING! STOP IT, YOU FUCKING PUSSY BITCH!” Flashes of pink and red was all that he could see until a darker colored form hovered over both of them. “Meg, get off!” The voice he foggily recognized as Jake completely took up all of the blank spaces and dragged the reddish colors off of his flailing person. Instead of trying to squint and make out the squabble in front of him, Dwight looked down, dragging his fingers along the ground in his search for his glasses, which bless him, he found promptly and shoved them back onto his face.

 

The first thing he saw was Meg trying to sit on top of Jake’s chest, with the man kicking his legs in the air to try and buck her off with eventual success. If Dwight hadn’t been so scared, he would’ve laughed at the sight of the two.

 

“MEG, GET OFF OF  _ ME! _ ” Pitching violently to one side, Jake managed to roll from underneath the red-haired woman, landing on his hands and knees with eyes as wide as Dwight’s, with a hint of something  _ wild  _ in them that startled the office man almost as much as the red-headed woman had. “Meg, what the hell? That was completely unwarranted!” Jake got to his feet, albeit with a slight unsteadiness in his legs that Dwight felt bad about noticing.  _ It was his fault- he shouldn’t have been so scared like that! _

 

Meg’s face twisted in anger, rising up from where she had rolled on the ground to face Jake. “I’m sorry, I just…” Her face fell mid-sentence, and the hostile atmosphere turned more somber. “...I don’t want to hear any more screaming. I’ve heard enough.”

 

Nobody spoke afterwards, all three of them caught into a perpetual staring contest with each other, until soft movement to the side broke the oppressive silence. “Hhmm~?” Claudette moaned, wiping the sleep out of her eyes and slowly propping herself up on one elbow to gather her wits. “Wh-?” Brown eyes looked over the scene, and Claudette started to feel very uncomfortable. “What’s going on?” She whispered, barely heard over the crackling of the campfire.

 

After a long pause, Jake sighed and finally answered her “Nothing, nothing important.” Claudette looked at him with mild suspicion, her eyes narrowing behind her glasses until she caught a glimpse of Dwight chewing on his nails as usual that distracted her from her conversation with Jake.

 

“Dwight, are you alright?” She asked, shuffling her feet and making her way over to where Dwight was sitting on the dirt. The Canadian woman was still having internal difficulties in deciding whether she had dreamed the events that she had gone through herself where she was offered some of her good clothes, but there was something instinctually  _ empathetic  _ about her that she  _ had  _ to make sure Dwight was okay.

 

The nervous man was already on edge when Claudette snuck up on him, nearly ripping out a fingernail in surprise. “Oh, um-!” He had completely forgotten about the unnerving dream that he had, and looked down to pat himself to convince Claudette that he was alright. “I’m fine, haha, see, look-” 

 

Well, he was until he noticed that his vest that he thought was put him in a  _ dream _ was actually on him. While he was awake. Dwight used to be asthmatic but hadn’t had need of his inhaler in years- and he wished he had it on him right now

 

“Dwight.” Meg started, cutting off another one of Dwight’s terrified screams before it could begin. “Don’t freak out about the clothes. Look- I got some, too.” When the man’s screams didn’t subside the way that Meg wanted them too, she grabbed Dwight by his tie and yanked him  _ very  _ close to his face with a deadly, hoarse whisper of “ _ Don’t you even think about it. _ ”, paired with a deadly gaze set on her pale face that would frighten even the most courageous of heros. And Dwight Fairfield certainly wasn’t a brave hero by any stretch of the imagination.

 

Taking the hint, Dwight sucked in a shaking breath and held his wits about him enough to choke on his own tongue to stop his own terrified screams, much to the pleasure of the others around the fire. Meg bored holes into Dwight’s face until she was satisfied enough that the well-dressed man wasn’t going to be making any more unwanted noises, then let go of his tie and took a few steps back. “Alright-” Meg started, wiping her hands off on her new jacket and looking around. “-glad to know I’m not  _ that  _ crazy. Yet.”

 

“Speak for yourself.” Jake muttered, shoving his hands into various pockets into his pants, clearly rustling around for something if the very tip of his tongue poking out from inbetween his lips was anything to go by. This carried on while the other three fell into quiet contemplation again- until, of course, Meg’s urge to find out what the man was doing overcame her manners  _ again. _

 

“Tryna find the way out of here, hobo?” Meg teases, boldly walking up to the man and giving him a hardy poke in his upper arm that Meg finds oddly muscular. Not ripped like John Cena muscular, but still  _ nice. _

 

Jake rolled his eyes at her request, and after a few more seconds of rummaging around, he pulled out a small lighter and flicked the rivet, igniting a small but steady flame. “I’m tempted to burn down the entire forest if that’ll get us out of here.”

 

“Do it, then!” Meg exclaimed, reaching for the lighter herself to perform the dirty deed, but luckily Jake was quick enough to catch on to her intentions and held it out of her reach. “Pussy! Let me do it!”

 

“No.” Jake said very firmly, enough to make the brief spark of hope that Dwight felt in his chest at the mere idea of setting the woods on fire and burning their way out of hell fizzle away at his decisive negative. 

 

“Pussy-ass hobo, you won’t even let me  _ try- _ ”

 

“No, Meg, you’ll probably kill us all.”

 

“So, we’ve all died already!”

 

Surprising even himself, Dwight raised his hand and spoke “Meg has a point, Jake.”

 

Jake opened his mouth to retort, but Claudette spoke up, stepping inbetween Jake and Dwight in a few, small steps. “Dwight’s right, Jake- but then again, we can’t just burn down an entire forest! What if there’s others trapped here like us?”

 

“Then they probably can’t die like us, Claudy!” Meg piped up, forgetting her battle with Jake for the lighter to walk up to the Canadian. “What’s the worse we’re gonna do, summon Burnie the Bear?”

 

“Probably a demonic one.” Jake muttered again, almost going unheard by the girls, and definately to Dwight, who asked  _ “what?”  _ but never got an answer. “Besides, that’s not why I pulled the lighter out.”

 

A loud huff was followed by a roll of eyes and crossing of arms, sending red braids flying into the air. “Then why did you pull it out, hobo?”

 

Jake didn’t respond with words; instead, he pulled out a baggie, filled about a third of the way through with miniscule green leaves and a couple pieces of slim, white paper.

 

Meg instantly recognized the bag’s content, and a large smile split her irritated face in two- Jake would never admit it, but her smile was suspiciously contagious. “No way! A hobo who can afford his own weed!? Dude, share!” Meg  _ lept  _ towards Jake, nearly knocking the man and his precious goods over.

 

“Now- hold on!” Jake gripped his bag hard enough to stretch the plastic under his fingers. “You can’t just have it  _ all.  _ I’ll share it with y’all-”

 

“ _ Y’all-”  _ Meg mocked the harsh way he pronounced the word.

 

“-or I can keep it all to myself if you’re gonna be mean to me.” Jake clutched the small baggie close to his chest, keeping it out of Meg’s reach until Claudette came over to give the bag a small poke. 

 

“Jake, you know having weed is illegal, right?”

 

“...It’s only illegal if they catch me with it.”

 

Claudette gasped. “Jake! That is not-”

 

Meg interjected. “That  _ is  _ the way to do it! My man- you may be a hobo, but I’m really starting to like ya.” Jake predictably flinched away when the athletic woman gave him a clap on his shoulder, but she didn’t give a flying fuck right now: this man had  _ weed  _ and deserved a  _ medal.  _ And Meg was going to get some of his weed whether he wanted to give it up or not. So she made another grab for it, and made her intentions clear with a loud “Light ‘em up, hobo!”

 

Unfortunately, Claudette stepped inbetween them again and this time  _ she  _ took the weed  _ (honestly, Meg thought Jake let her have it) _ . “No!” The darker skinned woman exclaimed in a scolding, motherly voice. “There are  _ monsters  _ out there who are  _ killing us! _ We can’t afford to take incapacitating drugs-”

 

“Claudette, the weed’s not that strong.” Jake spoke softly, trying to reassure her of the weed’s lax effects while gently taking the baggie back from her and stashing it and the lighter back onto his pockets, much to Meg’s disappointment. “Trust me, I know.”

 

“Well…” Claudette quietly trailed off, her sudden burst of volume fading away in a second. “...still, we don’t need to be stoned when we, uhh, are running for-for our lives.”

 

“Please, Claudette? Jake?” Meg begged, clasping her hands together and giving everyone wide, pleading puppy eyes. “Please- not even just one hit?”

 

“No, Meg.” Jake answered, crossing his arms over his chest to make sure Meg didn’t try any  _ funny business _ . “Claudette’s right; we need to figure out what’s going on before getting stoned. And no- you still can’t burn down the forest.” 

 

“ _ Ughh, fine!”  _ The defeated woman groaned, letting out her frustration by kicking a small rock that just happened to be within striking distance of her foot, and sent it sailing right into the Campfire that sputtered out small flames and embers as the rock was ingested into the flames…

 

And the flames also spat out a book that landed on the ground with a soft  _ thump!  _ hard enough to catch everyone’s immediate attention. Particularly Dwight, who the book nearly landed on and emitted smoke, smouldering still. Yelping and scrambling backwards to avoid getting burned, Dwight tucked his feet underneath him and landed awkwardly on his side, staring at the book with wide eyes and a gaping mouth to catch flies with.

 

The group as a whole collectively stared until Jake was the first one to recover from the surprise gift and gathered his wits enough to walk over to the book, poking the cooling object with his boot and giving it a wide berth. Once, twice more he did it, until he deemed it safe enough to bend down and examine it closer. It was very plain but well-kept, leather-made and snapped shut with a matching leather strap with probably some sort of snap button holding it in place, since Jake failed to see a belt holding it in place.

 

“It’s a book.” He announced, giving it one more gentle kick with his boot before digging into his pockets to pull out one of his thick gloves to put on his right hand, slipping it on and giving the book a few test prods with the back of his hand before gently picking it up. Shaking off the dirt and ash, Jake deemed the book to be cool enough to the touch that he could hold it in his other hand while he slipped his glove back off. 

 

Seeing that the book wasn’t about to come alive and eat Jake’s hand, Dwight found the courage within himself to stand up and walk over to the other man.“Is it… burned or anything?” He asked, genuinely curious as to how a book that been  _ sitting  _ in a  _ fire  _ for God knows how long could not be just a pile of unrecognisable ashes at this point. His befuddlement was shared amongst the others who came padding up to get a look at the book in Jake’s now gloveless hands.

 

Turning it over once in his hands, Jake shrugged at Dwight’s question. “Seems alright to me. It… actually doesn’t feel hot at all.” The office man could hear the surprise in the man’s typical neutral tone, and that just added to the general confusion. Claudette delicately touched the book, reaching up over Jake’s arm and giving the leather cover a good feel-over before dipping her hand into the seams of pages that were remarkably unscathed. “The pages feel alright. Can you open the book, Jake?”

 

Nodding at her request, Jake had to use a little elbow grease to snap the leather strap off the front, but otherwise when he went to open the book, everything inside appeared to be completely unburned or scorched- and Meg made that known. “Well, that’s just confusing as all get out.” She started, tipping her head to the side over Jake’s shoulder to look at the inside of the book. “You’re telling me that this book was  _ in a fucking campfire _ and it’s completely fucking fine.”

 

“Apparently.” Dwight replied before realizing the statement was probably rhetoric and  _ he was a stupid fool for trying to be helpful- _

 

Meg gripped the side of her head with a open palm “Oh my fucking God, and I thought this place couldn’t get any fucking wierder-”

 

“I wouldn’t say that yet.” Jake interjected, flipping through the pages until he stopped on one and held it up, gesturing the girls to come around to his front so they could see the page he was holding open. “There’s drawings here, and that looks like one of those machines we keep having to fix.”

 

“Yeah.” Meg said softly at first, bright eyes flicking between the picture Jake was showing and the words on the page and then to another small picture at the bottom. “There’s a bird at the bottom left.” Meg poked it with her finger. Turning the book back to him, Jake took a quick look at what Meg was pointing at. “That looks like a crow.” He stated. “I’ve heard them a lot, now that I’ve thought about it.”

 

“Whatever kinda bird they are, they’re annoying. They keep cawing and screaming at me like the sons of bitches they are.”

 

“Meg.” Claudette placed a hand on Meg’s jacket sleeve. “You kicked their baby.”

 

“The little fucker pulled out one of my shoestrings and nearly made me trip!”

 

“Okay, okay- please calm down, Meg.” Dwight tired to take back control of the situation by standing next to the red-headed woman, but he was just given a harsh glare in response before he gave up on trying to keep her temperament down and addressed Jake. “The information in that book is probably important, Jake. I would- it would probably be good for us if we all got to see and read the book at once.”

 

Humming in agreement, Jake made a gesture to give the book to Dwight, something the pale man didn’t expect  _ (he was secretly hoping Jake would be the one to read it).  _ “Alright.” The woodsman man said, holding out the book until Dwight reluctantly took in, gripping the book tightly as his nerves started to escalate.  _ What if they laughed at him? Mocked him for reading something wrong or saying something funny? What if he messed up really bad and they never let him- _

 

“I can’t believe I’m 20 fucking years old and I’m about to have Story Time.” Meg sighed, plopping down in front of a log and stretched out her legs. “C’mon Dwight, hurry up before the monster comes back to eat our asses. Maybe that book will tell us were to kick him to kill him.”

 

With Claudette sitting down on Meg’s left and Jake on Meg’s right, Dwight suddenly found himself at the center of everyone’s attention, and he couldn’t determine if he liked it or hated it, but he ignored his inner debate and sweaty palms and plopped himself down on the log, opened up the book and began to read from the first page… 


End file.
